Love Thy Neighbor - Act 2; Scene 1
Otherwise Known As: "That Was Then, This Is Now"
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada - TD Place Arena
The match in itself was not one that anyone was prepared to witness, even though a great many were eager to bear witness to, both fan and peer alike. Backstage, every member of the 'wrestling family' known as the Sins had been glued to the edge of their seats, with their eyes glued to the monitor screen as two of their own did battle for the SCW Internet Championship. It was a first amongst them. Oh one time in the distant past, the inaugural Blast From the Past tournament saw Gabriel and Despayre met in the Quarterfinals of the Memorial event, and it was Gabriel who became the first man to ever pin Despayre's shoulders to the mat, ending a multi-year unbeaten streak. But this? This had been different. This match had been for the second tier championship, just below the World Heavyweight title. Twice in back to back matches, Despayre had challenged J2H in what proved to be classic matches that proved the Junior Heavyweights belonged in the upper echelon of the wrestling world, and although Despayre was unable to wrest the belt away from the dominant champion, he never the less earned the respect from James, a feat almost unheard of.
But this time, he was not competing against just anyone. He was competing against his own teammate in the 'Sin of Wrath' aka Rage, a man Despayre was quite affectionate towards, having dubbed him 'Uncle Rage.' Neither of the two combatants wanted this match. Neither was looking forward to it, but Rage was a fighting champion and wanted actual competition as he deemed it -- and he got it in spades with this match up. And Despayre? He was no more looking forward to this match than Rage, and he wanted it no more than he did the matches against J2H. He had even offered to simply 'lay down' and let Rage win, to spare them both the efforts of having to fight each other. Rage was actually insulted at the offer, and even were he not, both Synn and Gabriel refused to even dignify the notion of Despayre simply throwing away such an opportunity.
It started as anyone would have expected; with great hesitation on both of their parts, but just like anyone would have thought, when a title was on the line and neither man wanted to lose, things quickly broke down. Rage fought as hard and as rough as he quickly realized he was in a fight with Despayre, and Despayre? He met the impact of Rage with the only way he knew how; by scratching and clawing like an animal to both prevent himself from being hurt, and to hopefully walk away the victor, as unorthodox as ever.
The final bell had rung just mere moments ago, and everyone watching the proceedings remained transfixed, stunned. No, not stunned that Despayre had emerged victorious over Rage and become a two-time Internet Champion. They were stunned at how he had won. Submission. Rage had actually tapped out. Despayre, a young man almost a third Rage's own size, had forced the much larger, much stronger man, to yield to a Triangle Choke submission hold and before anyone knew it, there was a brand new champion in the Superstar roster. Who, in recent memory, had ever forced Rage to do such a thing? None of them were ready to deal with whatever mood the now 'former' champion would be in.
Gabriel, Shane Boswell, Fantasia, Odette Ryder-Stevens, Melody Grace, and even Despayre's mother Margaret Young, all stood wide eyed and watched as the curtains flew open and into the backstage area walked Rage -- a disturbingly quiet Rage. Trailing him was his girlfriend and escort, a Sin member in her own right, Kittie. Her eyes went to their friends and teammates briefly before she joined Rage where he waited in the traditional manner of the loser greeting the new champion as was expected and a time honored tradition in the world of professional wrestling. Kittie said nothing, she didn't have to. All Rage wanted, and all she could do, was simply wait with him and be there for him. Nothing need be said until Rage himself was ready. He ran a hand down his face and exhaled audibly, disappointed in himself and he turned to face the curtain and waited.
Minutes passed as the celebration outside in the arena finally came to a close, and the new champion emerged, along with his father who just radiated pride in his son for his fighting spirit against someone as tough and dominant as Rage was. Despayre walked slowly, with a bit of a limp and favoring his back having taken a pretty stiff powerbomb early on in the match, a move that surprised many of the Sins that Rage had resorted to such a brutal maneuver. Taking care not to bring him any more physical pain, but eager to congratulate 'their Despy,' the remaining Sins quickly gathered around him and enveloped him in light embraces and heart handshakes.
Despayre, of course, insisted that Angel get his just due of the congratulations because without him.... well, you know.
Gabriel had been the first to reach him, wrapping his arms around his little brother and whispering his congratulations into his ear. The others followed, with his mother having the honor of being the last, embracing her beloved baby boy and kissing his sweaty scalp as only a mother could. They then stepped back, and all eyes turned to Rage whose eyes never left Despayre. Despayre's gray eyes looked up at one of the select few he had allowed himself to grow close to, and this moment above all others had his worried with butterflies in his belly. Nobody knew what to expect, and had you asked him, Rage himself did not know how he was to respond.
Rage finally pushed himself upright from where he was leaning against the wall and stepped up the gathering. He looked down at Despayre -- then drew the smaller man into a one armed embrace, relieving all tension felt between them. Rage then playfully ruffled Despayre's sweaty hair and patted him on his back...
Las Vegas, Nevada
That was then, this is now. See how we worked the subtitle of this promo into the actual work? Neat! That was Angel's idea, but I'm sure you were able to figure that one out on your own. All the best ideas are usually credited toward the teddy bear ... whether he actually did the deed or not. The tension of the past had come and gone, and life was ready to resume anew. And as such, the inevitable fact of any champion had indeed come to pass: Despayre was booked to defend his championship in Arizona in a matter of days. Not the most thrilling revelation for the loveable little nutter, as Shane would refer to him as. But there you have it. Soon enough, he would be on the road with his father to Prescott Valley. They perhaps would have already left and arrived by now, but Despayre had done a little research thanks to the Google, and nothing very touristy caught his eye about the city. So here at home they remained until it was time to set out. And what was a champion to do to kill time while his father was busy elsewhere?
Why, engage his buddy Angel in a rousing game of cards, that's what!
Despayre sat in the living room of his home, perched on a cushion with Angel propped up opposite him, with the coffee table in between them. Despayre made a great showing of it, studying the cards in his hand, while Angel was stoic as always. Teddy bears had great poker faces -- even when they weren't playing poker!
Ah, but elsewhere in the house...!
In the house's kitchen, the literal 'woman of the home,' the live-in housekeeper and family member in her own right, Theresa entered the room that was considered her domain and headed straight for the refrigerator. Opening it up, she removed a large package of ground beef, then shut the door and headed for the stove. She set a skillet down onto the stove when a voice behind her gave her a start...
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Synn said, almost making the older Hispanic woman drop the meat and she turned around, one hand clutching her chest.
"Dios mío!" Theresa exclaimed. "Are you trying to give me another heart attack?"
Synn calmly stood up from where he had been seated at the kitchen's island counter and walked around to where she stood. He gently but firmly removed the packaged meat from her hands and said, "One, you had a stroke, not a heart attack. And two..." He opened the fridge and placed the hamburger back inside on a shelf and shut the door before continuing, "I asked you a question; what do you think you're doing?"
"Your boy has his heart set on Sloppy Joes for his supper." Theresa answered. "And I'm going to fix them for him." She started to pull the door to the fridge open again, but Synn placed his hand against it and shut it tight.
He said, "No, as a matter of fact, you're not. You haven't gotten over your flu yet, and your doctor said to take it easy for a couple of days and get as much rest as possible."
"It is not going to take any effort to make you men your supper."
"My point remains the same." Synn said. "I'm taking Joshua out for dinner and I'll bring you back whatever you like."
"Oh for Heaven's sake." Theresa clucked her tongue. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it? Take your boy out for dinner if I can't make it every so often."
"Well it's either that or try to make it myself and end up setting fire to myself." Synn quipped, drawing a soft smile from the petite Hispanic woman standing before him. She knew she had little to nothing to fret over. She rarely got ill, and it was even rarer when she was unable to fulfill the duties Synn paid her for. Still, she felt it quite the heartwarming experience, what the way he took care of her after her triple bypass almost a year ago.
She said, "Synn, I appreciate your concern. I do. But..."
"No buts." He interrupted. "Now you're either going to do as I ask and rest, or I'm going to pick your ass up and carry you to bed myself."
Setting her hands on her ample hips, Theresa took a stance and said, "You wouldn't dare!"
Synn arched a single eyebrow and.....
"Me dejó! Que me dejó este instante!"
In the living room, the sudden outburst of Spanish fury almost caused Despayre to drop his cards. He looked up wide eyed as the sounds carried off down into the hallway of the house's main floor and slowly subsided. Despayre's gray eyes looked back to Angel's own black ones and he sighed.
"Sounds like Theresa tried to call dad's bluff again!" He gave his plush buddy an impish grin and then said, "Okay! Call!" He set his cards down and proudly stated, "I have a Queen, a one of Hearts, a pair of Jacks and an eight of Diamonds! HA!"
Despayre frowned at Angel and shook his head, "Whaddya mean that doesn't beat a full house!? It did when you had it!"
Despayre huffed at whatever was kept private between him and his teddy bear in that unique mind of his as somewhere in the house, the phone rang. While he busied himself debating with Angel why a "whizzer hand" could only be played once per day (as that was what Angel called the hand Despayre just had), Synn entered the living room with the phone to his ear.
"Joshua," Synn stated, pulling the phone from his ear and offering it over to his son. "Telephone."
Despayre all but forgot his increasingly heated debate with the card shark across from him. He did not get calls very often, unless it was from his mom or Gabriel or Melody -- but they would usually just stop over and call him on Skype. This was a treat!
"Who is it?" He jumped to his feet and made grabby hands for the phone. "Is it Melly? Gabriel?"
"It's Missus O'Heaney." Synn said.
"You're kidding." Despayre gaped as the phone was placed in his hand.
Synn said, "I am not. She would like you to come over for dinner."
"There must be some mistake." Despayre half muttered as his father exited the room to give him his privacy. Despayre looked curiously at the phone in his hand before he cradled it to his ear and cautiously said, "Helllooo? Is this really Missus O'Heaney? It's not a joke?"
"I never have been famous for my sense of humor." Said the voice on the other end, and he knew the voice well. It was indeed his on again/off again nemesis and one-sided buddy, Missus Colleen O'Heaney. She said, "So no, it is not a joke. I was wondering if you'd join me for supper this evening. I have a bit of a treat for you."
Despayre frowned, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Missus O'Heaney!?"
"Oh stop your silliness!" The old bi-er, bird, barked. "Would you accept my invitation or not!?"
Despayre's face lit up. "Really? A treat? Sure! I'll be right over!"
"Don't be silly." Mrs. O'Heaney said. "It'll take Marsha a bit more time to set up the treat and finish our supper. Be here by six."
"It's a date!" Despayre announced aloud and with a click of the thumb, he turned the phone off and turned around and almost jumped as his father was standing there with an interested look on his face.
"What's a date?" Synn asked.
"Are you listening in on my phone calls?" Despayre gave his father a most comical but critical 'glare'. "For shaaaaaame!"
"You do it to me all the time." Synn pointed out, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeaaahh!" Despayre fidgeted, trying to justify one of his many eccentric hobbies. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet before he said, "But it's funny when I do it."
"It's funny when you do it." Synn repeated, nodding. Rather than try to win a debate with his son, which was usually fruitless as Despayre was his son, Synn instead sought another avenue to the topic of conversation and asked, "So what did your friend want?"
"Oh!" Despayre clapped his hands together, his face again showing traces of a sudden good mood and all remnants of his father's woeful listening in on his phone call all but forgotten. "Missus O'Heaney invited me over for supper!" Synn frowned. Hadn't he already told Despayre that was what the call was about? Despayre continued, "She even said she had a treat for me!"
"A treat?" Synn repeated. "In that case I'd suggest you keep an eye out for one of her tricks. A gracious invite is not in that woman's nature."
Despayre searched his father's face and eyes for some hidden meaning toward that (not so) cryptic statement when his eyes twinkled and he smiled. "Such a kidder!" Despayre waved a hand at his dad. "So, I can go, right?"
"If you want to." Synn conceded. "Though just for the record, I had intended to take you to Panda Express."
"Oh." Despayre's slim shoulders sagged. "You did?" Synn nodded silently and Despayre bit his bottom lip. Oh how he did love Panda Express. He hadn't eaten their delicious fast food goodness in forever -- a whole week! Maybe less. He sighed and shrugged, "I promised Missus O'Heaney I'd have supper with her."
Knowing his son truly had a heart of gold, and for some reason, had become quite taken with the meanest person in their neighborhood, Synn gave a tilt of the head in acknowledgment, "I understand. Then you had best go get ready."
No more need be said as Despayre quickly grabbed Angel by his fuzzy arm and hurried upstairs to do exactly as suggested...
And for that evening, it indeed was a delightful treat as promised! Mrs. O'Heaney had found two of the films she had been a part of in the mid-fifties in her storage, and feeling nostalgic, decided to view them on her old fashioned movie projector. And, given the young man who had recently decided he would be her friend, perhaps her only one, had taken quite the interest in the fact he knew a real actress from the "Golden Age" of movies, she had decided to invite him for a private showing of those very two films.
It was where we find ourselves now, looking in on the home of Colleen O'Heaney. The home was kept in darkness save for a few lights set on low, while the elderly woman and the young man sat side by side on the small sofa in the spacious den, watching the first of the two films on the small screen that had been set up by her nurse as an additional favor to her elderly client.
They had previously shared a pleasant steak dinner together in her dining room. Mrs. O'Heaney was quite confused when Despayre simply stabbed his steak with his fork and ate at it whole, as opposed to not using the steak knife she had provided him. She had no idea that he was not allowed to use such implements, but she asked no questions and made no comments. They simply shared the meal time together in relative peace with little idle chatter between them, save for Despayre's constant requests to be told what this "treat" was, to which she would say nothing. Not until their meal was over. He felt like a kid on Christmas Eve all over again, and in part, she enjoyed how anxious he was acting.
And of the expression on his face when he was led into the room and saw the movie projector -- it gave her a sense of feeling she had thought she had lost so many years ago. Despayre had seemed as fascinated by the projector as he was watching the movies! He even got to help her set it up! Fun!
Mrs. O'Heaney having this time to relive a time of her life that was easier and far more pleasant than these her golden years, and having someone to share it with although that part was left largely unsaid. And Despayre? He got to experience something altogether new, thanks to someone whom most of the others in this neighborhood had seemingly very little use for. And the best part?
In his hands he held a small black and white picture of Colleen O'Heaney during her younger years, bearing the autograph he had so badly wanted ever since his discovery of her past.
"I have to admit a touch of surprise when I was informed who would be the first man to challenge Despayre for the Internet Championship. The moment he had emerged with the title at Violent Conduct III, I imagined a list of names, each and every one a viable contender wanting to be the first to stand opposite the ring against Despayre in his first defense. Rage seemed an obvious choice. There was also Lord Raab. Samuel Devereux also seemed highly likely given he was the last man in the Number One Contender Battle Royal."
"But Matt Spears? Really? One has to wonder why he was being given this second chance when his first opportunity at the gold, facing Rage, fell so short, so fast. Oh I don't pretend to understand the inner workings of the minds of the bosses and the bookers. Perhaps they got a taste for title changes and they figured if Matt was unable to wrest the title from a man so much bigger than he was in Rage, then he'd have a much better chance at claiming his first championship in SCW by going against someone who was quite a bit smaller than he is."
"Interesting thought, there. For a change, Matt, you can actually say that you have a size advantage going into this match. Not by much, granted. Like Despayre, you too are a Junior Heavyweight, but even you have a five inch height advantage and a good fifty seven pounds going into this title match. A smart man would know how to take advantage of such disadvantages against their opposition, but something tells me you do not fall into that category, do you? Oh don't get me wrong. You've earned your spot, as anyone else here in SCW has, but I see no reason why you were given not one, but two championship matches against two separate champions with relatively little success to call your own. Perhaps it's simply whimsy on the part of the bosses, or maybe they simply want to get in good with old Saint Nick now that the holiday season is right around the corner."
"Or maybe, given Halloween is fast approaching, they simply want to hand you one nightmare over another in order to celebrate this darkest of holidays."
"It matters little the hows and the whys. What matters most is the end result, and that will be the same thing that you saw when Violent Conduct III was done and over: Despayre with his arm raised in victory, and the Internet Championship to call his own. I won't detract from your skills inside of the ring, only how far those skills can carry you when you're inside of the ring against someone who is quite simply your superior in every way. You showed yourself capable in every match you've been in. Your ring skills are indeed impressive, but in the end, they simply won't be enough to carry you over to victory. Fight as hard and as rough as you like. You will accomplish nothing that Despayre has not yet experienced in his years inside of the ring."
"You see, despite his status and his near flawless record, he is still seen as something of an underdog. People look at his size, and wonder how he does it, and still expect anyone bigger than he is to fall upon him like a tree in the forest. Yet like that tree, Despayre has proven himself time and again to be a real force of nature. And you, Matt Spears, you are going to be the first listed among the casualties."
