[Geno Jr]

 Modern television is a wonderful thing, a collection of light and digitized pixels combining to form ultra-high resolution moving pictures with lush scenery and worlds so vivid and so realistic that the unaided eye could not discern the real from the make believe, and with new advancements being made almost daily the task becomes that much more difficult.

It is a lazy afternoon in the suburbs of Las Vegas Nevada, despite an unseasonably warm temperature outside with the majority of residents preferring to retreat to the comforts of their homes. Goldenboy Gene Banton Jr is one such resident, lounging back on a plush, black leather sofa with a remote control device in his hands. Putting his thumb to work the 19 year old wrestling super star casually surfs through several channels, his mind quietly taking note of what is being displayed in front of him before electing to try the next station. Clad in a pair of grey sweat pants and a yellow tee shirt bearing the Green Bay Packers football team logo he props his feet atop a glass top coffee table in front of the sofa and kicks off his sneakers, allowing them to fall to the floor. They land softly, muffled by the luxurious black shag carpeting though he pays them no mind, his eyes fixated on the screen while he continues to channel surf. He flips past a cooking show, recognizing the all too familiar scowl of celebrity Chef Gordon Ramsey as he hurls a heavy iron skillet across a kitchen. Next up is the home shopping network where a stack of Red Velvet Pancakes are on display in an advertisement for the café at the Aria resort and casino. Another channels bears the always grim evening news which depicts an apartment fire and yet another features the smartly dressed Mayor Carolyn Goodman, wife of former mayor Oscar Goodman as she outlines plans for a new soccer stadium to be built.

“Psh,” He scoffs. “We already have half a dozen arenas with three more being built, not to mention Sam Boyd stadium in Henderson and now she wants a soccer stadium even though we don’t have a team!” he mutters softly to himself. “Whatever,” he acquiesces with a light shrug to resume his surfing.

The channels begin to pass by more quickly, his mind seemingly eager to push the ‘no’ button until finally he happens on Fox 5 as it announces the start of its evening movie. He looks on as the preview begins to roll, a large group, an army actually of white clad troopers wearing ridiculously oversized matching helmets respond to an order given by an unseen commander. A gigantic space ship zooms past a Winnebago with wings leaving a trail of plaid in its wake. The mustachioed face of Mel Brooks, dressed in a black pin stripe suit looks on in abject horror at some unseen event off screen and another character clad in black with a matching colossal helmet who appears to Gene as a parody of Darth Vader faces off with another character in a light sabre duel. He quickly recognizes the film to be shown as the Mel Brooks comedy Spaceballs and with a subtle smirk he tosses the remote control off the side and leans back, clasping his hands behind his head.

As the film begins Gene realizes that he should be out training in preparation for his upcoming match against Horace Jackson, an opponent whom he has never faced before in the squared circle but as the film’s plot slowly develops with the introduction of Dark Helmet to bring a smirk to his face he decides that he would rather watch the movie through. Although it is an old film it remains a classic by anyone’s definition with a stellar cast including Mel Brooks, Rick Moranis, the late Joan Rivers, Daphne Zuniga, the late John Candy and many others. Besides, he reasons, he hasn’t seen it in nearly a decade so why refresh it in his memory? Further down the hall, most likely from the kitchen he hears a pair of voices having a conversation, a male and a female. He immediately places the voices belonging to his father Gene Banton Sr. and his trainer, Erika Stark. The voices however are thrown into direct competition with the audio of the film, a competition his father and Erika are quick to lose as Jr. casts them off in favor of the television.

“Gene, he hasn’t wrestled in over a month.., Erika says to the elder Gene Banton as she takes a seat at the kitchen table across from him. “Closer to two months actually so there’s bound to be some ring rust. I really think we should approach his training lightly, re-introduce him gently so as not to over work him”.

Erika Stark, the dark brown haired women with a softly hued tan complexion is a former protégé of Gene Senior’s and a six time world champion. Upon her retirement from the industry over ten years ago Gene offered her the opportunity to become the lead trainer at his wrestling academy in the rolling hills of East Las Vegas near Sunrise Mountain, an opportunity she was quick to accept. Since then she has had a firm hand in the training of every student to pass through the halls of his school, including Gene’s own children Cassie and Jr. Through pursed lips she blows over the top of her hot chocolate before raising the glass mug to her mouth to take a careful sip as Gene speaks.

“I understand that Erika,” he says with his hands cradling his own hot chocolate. “But Junior is no ordinary athlete. This kid is gifted beyond belief. He has raw athletic ability I would have killed for during my time in the ring. Not to mention a ring awareness and intelligence far beyond his years. He thinks on his feet and reacts like a man with 20 years of experience. He could probably jump right into the ring tomorrow without missing a beat”.

“Believe me I know,” Erika replies setting her mug down on the lavishly ornamented glass and marble dining room table. “He’s impressed me more than anybody I have ever trained. But you remember his match following the loss to Green, it was as if he didn’t want to be there and that’s what I’m worried about, motivation. I want to make sure that he is sufficiently motivated to take on Jackson”.

“Ok, Gene relents. “I see your point and I agree, he could use some motivation but the question is how do we do it? He’s in the living room right now and I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that he won’t want to budge off of that sofa. So how do we do it?”

“I don’t know,” Erika says rising from her chair and taking one final sip of cocoa before setting it back on the table. “But I do know that we won’t get anywhere without trying”.

“Agreed,” Gene says, following her lead as she starts towards the hallway leading to the living room.

Entering the spacious living room both pause to glare at the television set, its volume turned up to a level more befitting of a movie theater than a private home. The reason for their arrival, as well as the excessive volume kicks back lazily on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table and a care free smirk slithering across his face as a dialog exchange takes place between Dark Helmet and Colonel Sanders on the 72 inch plasma screen.

“Now hear this, ludicrous speed..,”

“Sir, hadn’t you oughta buckle up?”

“Ah buckle this! Ludicrous speed.., GO!”

The behemoth spaceship Spaceball 1 accelerates violently from a standstill as it propels past light speed, and past ridiculous speed as shown on the screen and finally up to ludicrous speed. The stars of the universe become a blur and are quickly left in the wake of the speeding vessel as it flies through various warp drive – like special effects. Inside Dark Helmet clings desperately to a console to avoid being thrust into the rear wall of the bridge. The ship blows by the fleeing Winnebago of Lonestar leaving a trail of plaid to mark its path, in addition to the surprised expressions of Lonestar and his partner Barf. Back inside the still rapidly transiting vehicle Dark Helmet orders Colonel Sanders to use the emergency brake, over ruling his precautionary objections. Sanders pulls the level and the ship comes to a dead halt instantly and sends Dark Helmet careening across the bridge and headfirst into the opposing wall drawing a hearty guffaw from Gene Junior.

“Playtime is over,” Gene Sr. announces loudly stepping to the sofa and looking down at his son. “We need to go get you prepared for Horace Jackson this weekend”.

“Oh please..,” Junior remarks snidely while turning his attention back to the TV set. “I’ve been studying film on him for an hour now, where have you been?”

“Umm.., you’re watching Spaceballs,” Erika dryly observes.

“Not really,” Jr. counters. “This is actually a video compilation of Horace Jackson’s career. I’ve learned a lot about this guy”.

“Ugh..,” Gene Sr. grimaces. “Ok tell us, what have you learned so far?”

“For starters pops, despite the size of his helmet Horace Jackson is really stupid. His sidekick is the smart one. Then there’s his preferred fighting style, rather than traditional wrestling he prefers to sword fight with light sabers”.

“Alright then..,” Gene answers, determined to challenge his son. “So how do you deal with the force?”

“I have the force too pops,” he answers with a smirk. “I got the upside, he got the downside. There are two sides to every force”.

Glancing over at Erika who has her face buried in her palm over the young man’s stubborn reluctance Gene Sr. grows more determined.

“Listen boy, to hell with the force, to hell with light sabers, to hell with helmets, you need to get your ass off of that sofa and let us prepare you for this match,” he growls. “I’m not going to play your games now get your ass up and let’s go”.

“Sorry pops, but I’m more of a thinker so I’d be better prepared for him if I just stay here watching film on him”.

“You could just turn the TV off yourself,” Erika whispers softly into the elder man’s ear. “Make him go”.

“No..,” Gene Sr. shakes his head. “It’s like you said, we need him to be motivated”.

“Hey pops,” Geno Jr. speaks up as the movie enters into a commercial break. “How about you and Erika go and buy a couple of light sabers so I can work on a counter?”

“Sure,” Gene replies indignantly while exiting the living room with Erika in tow. “We’ll get right on that”.

“Let me guess”, Erika snickers as they round the hall leading back towards the dining room. “You don’t have a plan B?”

“Not yet,” the father replies. “Give me a minute to think”.

The pair re-take their seats at the expansive dining room table turning their attention back to their hot chocolate;  while Gene Senior’s wife and the mother of his lazy son strides into the kitchen. She grabs a set of car keys off of the breakfast bar and pauses to offer her frustrated husband a peck on the cheek.

“Bye hun, I’ll be back shortly”, she advises through an Irish accent. “I’m going to make a trip to the store”.

“Yeah, alright..,” he replies dejectedly as his mind races through a flurry of thoughts in search of the solution to the obstinacy of his son. “Wait a minute..,” he says, his voice rising as an idea buds. “Before you go I need your help with something”.

“Sure, what is it? Morrigan pauses and turns to her husband with curiosity.

“Huddle up”, Gene says rising from the table followed by Erika and approaching the fair skinned redhead. He draws the two women in close placing his arms around their shoulders and begins to share his idea, “This is what I want to do..,”

He explains his plan through a series of hushed whispers, going over it in detail with the girls who respond with obnoxious laughter. With a grin on his face Gene breaks from the huddle and looks at his wife.

“Do you think it will work?” he asks.

“Well..,” Morrigan replies, pausing to stifle her laughter. “He is your son”.

“My son?” He exclaims. “Why does he have to be my son? You’re the one who gave birth to him, not me”.

“Because you started it”.

“Like hell, you was the one wearing full length nylons that night..,”

“Gene..,” Erika interjects in between chuckles. “She’s saying that it will work”.

“Can you do it?”

“Sure,” his wife answers with a smile. “It’ll be fun”.

“Alright, I’ll set the ball in motion,” he says while walking into the hallway leading to the living room. He pauses halfway through beside a farmed and ornamented wedding photo on the wall and clears his throat..,”

“Junior..,” He announces.  â€œErika and I are going to take off and do your training for you”.

“Alright pops,” the reply comes from the living room. “Bring me back an ice cream bar”.

Satisfied he returns to the entrance to the dining room where the women are waiting for him with a wink. “Erika and I will be in the driveway preparing to leave, you just do your thing”. He leans over to kiss his wife on the cheek before fishing a set of keys from his pocket. “Just give us two minutes”.

Morrigan waits patiently in the kitchen as the pair departs through the foyer and hearing the soft thump of the door being shut behind them she glances at her watch. The slim, black faced diamond encrusted Tissot reads eight minutes past 4 PM. The second hand slowly ticks away as she notes the faint rumble of her husband’s pickup truck being started. With 30 seconds remaining her pursed lips curve into a wry grin and she starts for the living room. She stops just out of sight and allows a moment to mentally prepare before taking a deep breath and stepping inside.

“Ah Junior, there you are,” she says. Her voice carries a hint of impatience but offers no clue to what is really going on within her mind. “I’ve been looking all over for you young man”.

“You didn’t hear pops talking stupid to me?”

“I need you to run an errand for me”, she continues, ignoring his comment. “I’m afraid that it can’t wait for your movie to finish”.

“Mom..,” Junior groans. “I’m really busy and besides, I’ve had a long day. I deserve some down time”.

“I fully understand,” she says with a touch of sarcasm. “Getting up at noon, looking at porn on the internet, and taking a two and a half hour bubble bath before finally settling down must be terribly strenuous but you don’t have a choice in the matter lad”.

“Heh,” Junior snickers. “I’m a grown man, not to mention the greatest son you or anybody could ever hope to have. I’m the silver lining of that dark cloud you call a life. Why should I have to do anything?”

“Because if you don’t..,” she begins with a stern tone of voice stepping between him and the television set. Reaching down with her long, sharp nails, she forcibly inserts one into each nostril of the arrogant youngster’s nose and pulls him to his feet. “I will relocate your nose into your ass so that you can smell what you’re constantly shoveling. Gene gingerly stands on his toes in an attempt to ease the pain of his mother’s surprisingly strong fingers digging hard into his nostrils. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.., yes ma’am,” he whimpers. “C – Can you let go now please? I’ll run your errand mom”. Thankfully his mother releases her grip as Gene’s hands quickly go to massage the pain away. “What do you need me to do?” he asks.

“I need you to run to the store and buy a pack of Tampax Pearl Compact lights, unscented tampons”.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do you look like I’m kidding mister?” she scowls.

His mind races desperately in search of a way to opt out of every man’s nightmare scenario but his mother’s expression is fierce and determined. If there is one thing he has learned growing up with this woman it is not to cross her for she would surely make good on her threats. His prayers are answered in the form of a revving truck engine, his father’s truck. Just a few minutes ago he had tried to convince his son to go with them to prepare for Horace Jackson but he blew the man off in favor of his movie but now he is forced to choose between the lesser of two evil; training with his father and Erika or buying tampons for his mother in public. The answer is an obvious one as Junior hastily grabs his sneakers from under the coffee table and slides them onto his feet.

“I – I’m sorry mom but I can’t. I – I just remembered that I promised to go train with pops. He’s waiting on me right now”. He leaps over the sofa and darts into the hallway. “Pops wait for me! I’m coming!”

Morrigan watches her son disappear from sight and hears the slamming of the truck door as a grin crosses her face.

“I think we know whose son he is”.