HAPPY SAINT PADDY'S DAY!
Hey I betcha didn't know that this was actually the correct way to phrase that famed holiday greeting! Paddy, not Patty! Too many people confuse the two or pay no attention, or simply think they know it all and go on in ignorance declaring some chick named Patty a Saint. Who is Saint Patty? Anyhoo! Unlike the rest of these poor folks, I do know! One of the great many benefits of your promo editor being a teddy bear "in the know"!
And okay, so it's the day AFTER Saint Paddy's Day. So what! That's the beauty of breaking the fourth wall in a promo! You can pretend it's the day before. ... SO PRETEND!
Las Vegas, Nevada -- what? Were you expecting something different? C'mon!
The weather has been altogether pleasant in this early afternoon in the famed "Sin City," with clear, blue skies with barely a cloud, and a modest temperature high of barely eighty degrees. A mild wind blew across the horizon, just enough to make the warm weather have a hint of what was to come with the cheerfulness of spring just around the corner. Had the weather been much warmer, we might have found the star of this here promo (no, not Angel) taking a swan dive into his pool, but for now, we're going to move past that realm of possibility and join Despayre and his cadre of friends and family, and friends who were family, in the usual setting of the house he and his father shared (with Angel) with a certain firecracker of a housekeeper.
"Okay, now look up."
Synn's voice directed his son Despayre as the young man sat perched on the edge of the bathroom sink, while the father took the task to run the electric shaver along his boy's chiseled cheek bones. Synn used the tips of the fingers on his left hand to lift Despayre's chin and started to gently run the shaver's flat heads along the edge of his jaw line and slowly down along his throat.
To many on the outside looking in, this might look a bit of an unusual occurrence for one grown man to be shaving another. Yes, Despayre is in fact twenty two years of age, but because of his mental conditions, there were still tasks that Synn would not risk him handling on his own. Such as times when the family might go out for a nice meal at a nice restaurant. If there is steak involved (and there should always be steak!), Synn would cut up Despayre's for him so the young man would not have to handle the shark steak knife and thus risk harming himself or another. The risks were minimal, but still; there were risks. And this?
This was simply a father lending a hand to his son who felt he had the need for a shave. Of course, thanks to the shared bloodlines of both his father and his mother, Despayre could manage what could be best described as 'peach fuzz', but to a stout man such as he, it was the principle of the thing! I'm sure you understand!
"Okay, finished." Synn said as he switched the power off from the razor with a flick of his thumb and set it on the back edge of the sink counter. Despayre hopped down from his perch and Synn started to playfully swat at him with a hand towel to wipe his off, but Despayre cried out, laughing, and 'fought back' by swatting away at the towel with both hands. Synn then tossed the towel over his son's head who quickly yoinked it off and gave his father a playful version of the ol' 'stink eye' but it just bounced right off.
"Okay, you go finish getting dressed." Synn directed Despayre who turned to reach for the teddy bear who sat perched on the back of the toilet, having watched the entire grooming process. "I'll be downstairs with Theresa in the kitchen."
"Okay!" Despayre chirped as he watched his dad set foot outside into the hall. Only then did Despayre turn back to his teddy bear and his eyes fell upon that electric razor. He bit his bottom lip when his father's voice startled him...
"Joshua?"
He jumped, finding Synn back in the door frame, giving him that 'knowing look' that Synn always seemed to have.
"Hm?" He asked innocently (enough).
Synn tilted his head forward and winked, "Let Angel keep that Don Johnson fuzzy look, okay?"
Despayre blinked, then turned Angel around so that he could hold his buddy up and inspect him closely. He looked at Synn and nodded, "You're right."
Synn nodded and stepped back out into the hall and Despayre hurried across to his room.
Downstairs in the kitchen, or as those that lived in the house referred to it as -- Theresa's Domain -- the aforementioned housekeeper, and family member in her own right, Theresa Aguilera, was busy at work, preparing a little feast for the holiday as was requested. As she busied herself at the counter, cutting up vegetables, Synn entered and headed right for the refrigerator.
"How're things going?" He inquired as she scooped up a handful of chopped onions and carrots into a cup and carried them carefully over to the large pot on the stove and dropped them into the water.
"Fine." She stated simply as she paused to remove her glasses and wipe her forehead with her apron. Despite the modest temperatures outside, the kitchen could only heighten the temperatures but the woman would not trade it for the world. She loved to cook and she loved to take care of those that she had grown to care about, which would include this family.
"Well it was nice of you to go through this bit of extra trouble for Joshua's little party." Synn stated as he lifted the lid off of a slow cooker and inhaled. "Smells good." Of course, temporarily forgetting himself in doing so as Theresa hurried over and he just as quickly replaced the lid. Complimenting her accomplishments in the kitchen of course took a bit of the sting off of getting in her path.
As she resumed her duties, Theresa said, "It was no trouble. This is an easy enough thing to prepare."
"Oh who are you kidding?" Synn smirked as he took a seat at a safe distance at the island counter and popped open the bottle of beer and took a sip. "You couldn't have said no to his little Saint Patrick's Day dinner party any more so than I could."
Theresa turned to give her employer, and yes, friend, a rather matching retort, but found that she was unable to do so. So rather than show that fact to the man teasing her, she instead pointed towards him with her wooden spoon and inquired, "Isn't a little bit early?"
Synn paused at taking a mid-sip and slowly lowered the bottle to look at her. Just about anyone else who would question him would be risking quite the scathing remark, but he knew this woman well enough to know that she was teasing and it was not, in fact, the earliest she had ever found him 'partaking'. Instead, he sighed and said, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I just needed a bit taken off of the sting from this morning. I heard from the lawyer."
That gave Theresa cause to pause from her cooking and she turned around to look at him with concern. "And?" She inquired.
"Don't be worried." Synn held his hand up. He then carefully looked out of the kitchen door frame and seeing that the coast was clear, he felt safe to continue. "My mother is in fact still pressing this ludicrous case forward. A date has been set. The judge has all of the statements collected..." He shrugged. "Everything looks good."
"Then what's with the 'sting' talk?"
Synn set the bottle down on the counter (on a coaster!), and frowned, "She wants to talk to Joshua."
"Oh." Theresa blinked as she approached the island counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "And Joshua still doesn't know what your momma is trying to do?"
"No." Synn shook his head. "And I explained to the judge the dangers of him finding out, as did his doctor, and she assured me that she won't tell him unless absolutely necessary."
"Just have faith." Theresa gave him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder with her hand. Such was the gentle nature of both this woman and the special friendship she shared with this, her employer. "Everything will work out."
"I know it will." Synn stated as he picked the beer back up and she moved to resume her duties. "And if all else fails, I made certain to have a backup plan."
Theresa paused at the stove, but before she could ask about that cryptic statement, they were interrupted with the arrival of Despayre in the kitchen...
"Phew!" He wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell!?"
"That would be the smell of your holiday feast." Synn quipped without missing a beat.
Despayre blinked, wide eyed because he was not altogether certain that he liked this particular fragrance. Usually everything that came from out of this kitchen smelled absolutely dupely epic, but this? He slowly moved closer to the stove, almost like a timid baby dear, while Theresa watched him.
She said, "You did ask for a traditional Saint Patrick's Day meal. Corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, the lot."
Despayre looked at her, the leaned on his tippy toes to look up and over into the pots on the stove and dropped back down to his feet and gawked at her, "THAT'S what corned beef is!?"
"Afraid so." Theresa answered, shooing him back and away from her stove to continue working. He shuffled back along the counter until he found himself near Synn who asked,
"You've never had corned beef?"
Despayre could only bite his bottom lip and shake his head in the negative. He then huffed and asked, "Do you think we'll have enough?"
"We'll have plenty." Theresa answered from where she worked. "There's you, your poppa..."
"You too!" Despayre chirped with a smile.
Theresa playfully rolled her eyes, ".. Me, Rage, Phil..."
"Phillip will be working." Synn interrupted. "One of the many fails I imagine of working in a Vegas nightclub on Saint Patrick's Day."
Theresa continued, "... Gabriel's family, and your momma and grandmother."
"And Missus O'Heaney!" Despayre smiled.
Theresa didn't answer, but simply turned away to continue working, while Synn leaned over to look to his son who turned his attention to his dad.
"Are you certain you want to invite her?" Synn asked, knowing that the old woman was by no means the most favorite of people in this neighborhood, let alone within their own private little circle. Her 'feud' with Despayre was fast becoming legend, even if it was on an again-off again status.
This was all lost on Despayre however as he shrugged, "Why not? It's an Irish holiday and she's Irish. Makes sense." he then added, "Besides, you didn't say anything when I invited Missus Dent in for supper last week."
Missus Dent, the local Avon lady. A sweet woman really who Despayre was always buying from her catalog for presents for his mother and grandmother, but mainly Theresa.
Synn countered, "You didn't give us much choice, or her. You just pulled her into the dining room and had her sit down."
Despayre said nothing in response. He just smiled. Synn couldn't fault him for this -- well, not really. His son was just that type of young man who was just friendly and inviting if he felt comfortable enough. Avon ladies... Jehovah Witnesses ... he'd invited them all in for a meal at one time or another. Sometimes repeatedly.
"Have you at least asked Missus O'Heaney if she even wanted to come over?" Theresa pointed out, and Despayre puckered his lips and fidgeted.
"Ooo! I knew I forgotted something!" And that being said, he spun around and hurried out of the kitchen. A moment later, they heard the front door slam and Synn shared a look with Theresa.
He said, "Maybe she'll refuse."
Theresa turned back to her stove. "We can only hope."
Racing down the walk and carefully across the road to the impressive old Victorian house, Despayre bounded up the curb and raced up the steps to the front door where resembling the speed of a woodpecker, he rapped his knuckles on the front door...
**rattattattattatttatttattattata**
... And he swung the front door open with a flourish and called out, "HelllOOoOOooo Missus O'Heaney!"
From somewhere inside, he heard an 'Oh Christ' and that almost gave him reason to pause. Did he interrupt her mid-day prayers? Was there such a thing as mid day prayers? Well best go find out! He carefully shut the door (much more so than he did at his own house but he was a GUEST here!), and then hurried along the familiar path; past the foyer and into the old house's main hall where the living room was. He popped into the elaborately decorated main room of this home to find the woman of the house seated in her usual chair with a book on her lap, and her German Shepard at her feet.
"Hi Missus O'Heaney!" He smiled, then looked down at the dog. "Hi Pongo!" But the dog whimpered at the sight of him and scooted on all fours until he was almost all of the way beneath Missus O'Heaney's chair. Despayre leaned down for a closer look, then stood upright and forgot all about it. He jetted a thumb back and asked with a smile, "Did you notice? I knocked first! That shows improvement, huh?"
"Despite the fact you didn't wait for me to answer or say 'come in'." She responded tartly, looking back from him and to her book once again.
"Oh." Despayre's cheeks flushed from the chastisement, as he was wont to do, even if it were such a minute bit. He then answered, "Would you have said come in?"
The old woman sighed and removed her glasses so they hung from a small, thin chain around her neck and looked up at him. "I suppose so. It's not like I could keep you out anyway, so it seems."
"Well then!" Despayre flopped into the chair across from her, taking her words as an invitation. "I see you're reading, and I heard you saying prayers just now..." (That gave the old woman a bit of a frown.) "So I won't stay long. I just wanted to invite you to supper tonight! I'm having a Saint Paddy's day dinner and you can be my guest of honor."
Closing the book on her lap and leaning back in her chair to elevate some of the pain in her back, the same pain she's suffered from ever since that fall many months ago, she asked, "Why on earth would I ever be the guest of honor at your dinner?"
Despayre asked, "It's an Irish holiday, isn't it?"
"Yes." She sighed.
"And you're Irish aren't ya?"
"That I am."
He held his arms out as if asking the obvious, "So what's the problem?"
"I believe I'll pass." Missus O'Heaney said as she opened her book back up and reached for her glasses.
Despayre slowly lowered his arms and the smile fell from his face as he asked, "How come?"
Before she set her glasses back on the bridge of her nose, she took the time to look at him and answer, "Because I don't feel like being made into a spectacle as this... 'guest of honor'. Now you go... enjoy your meal and holiday."
Having been dismissed, Despayre slowly stood up to his feet, looking absolutely crestfallen. He fiddled his hands in front of his waist as he started to walk out of the front room, when another idea slowly formed in that head of his. He turned back around and said with hope, "Happy Saint Patrick's Day."
Missus O'Heaney looked up from her book and gave him a nod, "And you."
His face lit up once again, having a hard time keeping this young man down, and he turned and he raced out -- slamming the door behind him and startling both the elderly woman inside, and the dog that was only now feeling it safe to come out.
The evening passed extremely pleasantly. A fine dinner of several corned beef briskets with the traditional cabbage, potatoes and other goodies were eaten heartily, and the green beer was drank! All in all, a very fine and fun way to start to draw this the 2016 Saint Patrick's Day to a slow close.
Outside of Synn's house, the man himself shut the door to the rear passenger side of a taxi cab and gave it a wave as it slowly pulled from out of the drive and went along down the road. He stood up to his full height of six foot eight, and turned around to head back inside when he found Gabriel and Odette, with the baby Lucas in Odette's arms, making their way outside and toward their car. In Gabriel's own hands was a large covered bowl, most likely filled with leftovers as was Theresa's habit. Given the appetites of everyone this evening, Synn had to admit a touch of surprise that there had been any leftovers at all to give away.
"You heading home already?" Synn asked with a frown. "You don't want to stick around?"
"Oh thank you, Synn." Odette said in her silken honey accent. "But it's long past time we put this one to bed."
"Mm." Synn then looked from the baby to Odette. "And what time does the baby have to be asleep?"
"Wise arse." Gabriel quipped.
"You going to be okay? That was more than just a few of those green beers you put away." Synn stressed.
"Look who's talking." Gabriel laughed as he opened up the rear door and set the container inside, then reached for the baby to secure him in the baby seat. "Besides, O is driving. She only had the one."
Synn nodded, then asked, "Sure you don't want to say good-bye to Joshua first?"
"Oh he said good-bye to us before he took off earlier." Odette pointed out. Her lovely face then took on a frown as she asked, "Is he feeling alright?"
Gabriel stood up, having fastened his son in securely, and looked from his wife to Synn as Synn asked himself, "Joshua? Yes, why do you ask?"
Odette said, "Well he barely ate a thing at dinner, then he practically took off for bed right after. Just had enough time to say bye to us and his mom and nan before taking to bed."
Synn smiled and shook his head, answering, "Oh, he didn't go to bed."
"He didn't?" Gabriel frowned. "Well then where did he go?"
The answer, of course, could be found just down the road...
In a certain Victorian house...
Where inside in the living room, with two TV trays set before their respective chairs, Despayre had chosen to bring a plate filled with Theresa's yummy supper for Missus O'Heaney, and just so that she didn't have to eat alone, another one for himself.
"It's not easy, is it, when one's path crosses with that of a friend? Especially when you that path runs in conflict and you actually find yourself against said friend in opposition."
"That is the conundrum we find ourselves in when Despayre's team finds himself standing across the ring from none other than Roxi Johnson on the opposing side. You see, Roxi is one of the select few whom Despayre has taken a shine to, and I have to admit a good deal of it probably has to do with the random plates of home made sweets she tends to ply Despayre with. A fine and endearing character trait to be sure, but a lot also has to do with just her general trait of character and her superhero tendencies where Despayre's little friend Angel is concerned. And where the athleticism comes into play? Well, Roxi has not amassed herself such an uncanny win-loss and championship record as she has if she weren't a capable athlete when inside of the ring. Two-time World Champion. Two-time Internet Champion. Current World Tag Team Champion. The woman is formidable, to say the very least. I can only appreciate the fact that Sin City Wrestling disallows inter gender participation in these matches, otherwise I couldn't be certain how Despayre would react to being opposite someone he is fond of. Of course, this would be where his partner, Crystal Millar, comes into play. As good a partner as Casey Williams has, I feel confidant that Despayre has for himself one just as capable of catapulting them even further into the Blast From the Past IV tournament. I mean, as a former Roulette Champion, Crystal has proved herself more than capable of securing victories over top level competition, and for this reason, I am feeling quite confidant in Despayre and Ms. Millar's chances."
"Of course, the same good will can not be said when Casey Williams's name is brought into the equation."
"Casey Williams, haven't you tired of this little revolving door that you continuously find yourself in whenever your path crosses with Despayre? It's as has been stated time and again, the history the two of you shared has been long and storied. From the Asylum Wrestling Alliance where you first crossed paths, right up until you walked through the doors of Sin City Wrestling, it just seems like destiny has foretold that time and again, you would find yourself stepping into the ring against Despayre in one form or another. Of course, judging by your recent running of the mouth on social media, one might begin to think yourself capable of subverting destiny so that you can, for the first time, emerge victorious over Despayre. Cute. Amusing even. Oh I bet that you would just love that, wouldn't you? After how many losses in tag team matches over the years, for the first time to score a win against Despayre -- to put his shoulders to the canvas for the fateful three, or to make him cry uncle and tap out, that would just be like the mental equivalent of icing on the cake for you. Even though this is technically a tag team match, due to the rules, this is the closest I believe the two of you have come to a singles encounter, is it not? And you think that this will work in your favor, due to your size and ferocity? You think without a partner who can help Despayre wear you down, he'll be a sitting duck for you to get your hands on and pound into pulp? No, no. You have it all wrong, Casey. All this special encounter is going to do is erase all doubt from the minds of fans and peers alike, as to why you have been unable to gain a victory over Despayre over all of these years. Size aside, he is simply, and undeniably, better than you. So rest up, so-called Freight Train of Pain. Take your Vitamin B12, call your local priest, and have it explained to you why destiny has a way of getting its own way. No more crying. No more whining. And for you especially -- no more excuses."
