Fear and Loathing - Act 1, Scene 1
Las Vegas, Nevada - 5:36 A.M.
Off-Camera\I kept asking myself,
Mac why are you splitting time between two companies?. The answer always came back the same, the reason at the age of forty-four I’m splitting my time between two companies? I was currently watching her sleep. Some people called her “The Hurricane Painted Red”, others called her, “The Distorted Angel”, and even a brave few called her “Bitch”. Not in my presence though, not unless they wanted to ingest their next meal through a tube. I simply called her “Amber” or “Red”. Even while she slept, I could tell she wasn’t at peace. The injuries and the drama were taking its toll on her, it was easy to see and hard to watch. When you love someone though, you do whatever you can to support them. She’s one of the few people on earth I would storm the gates of hell for.
The bedside clock showed in angry red numbers that it was five thirty-six in the morning. I slide out of bed as carefully as my frame will allow and head to the kitchen. I’m on auto-pilot right now making coffee. I then make my way outside to smoke a cigarette. The “snick” of the zippo lighter fills the night air, the flame showing my barely clothed body, the boxers and flip flops were enough. The smell of the fuel being used and then the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, I watch the smoke drift up and away. I move my head to the left then the right with the satisfying popping sounds that accompany that motion. Walking over to the patio furniture, I pressed the button for the lamp on the table. Sitting down, I thump the cigarette and then take another drag off of it.
I had seen the assignment late last night, they had booked me against three other men in a roulette match. Stephen Calloway, Augustino Romano and Lachlan Kane. Unlike a lot of these folks, to me, it didn’t matter where I was on the card. It didn’t matter who I was fighting that night. The only thing that mattered to me was the fight itself. Violent Conduct was the name of the show and this was the sixth installment of this super show. I often wondered if people really understood what it was to be willing to win by any means necessary.
Match by match, fight by fight, I’ll earn my way. They’ll learn to respect who and what I am, or…..I heard the backdoor open, evidently Amber had woken up despite my best efforts. I could smell the coffee as she approached. I look up to see my beautiful woman, in my blue t-shirt that looked more like a dress on her, handing me my coffee cup. She continued to the seat next to mine, limping slightly and then sitting down heavily in the chair.
Thank you loveShe smiles a sleepy smile and nods before saying…
You know the rules Bane, no talking before coffeeIn response I raise my coffee cup in salute and then I lower it enough to take a deep drink, getting a silvery laugh from her.
{The Promotional - Introduction and Calloway}
On-Camera
The stillness of the television recording studio, the lack of anything really. The room is so very quiet, not even a hint of normal room noise. The walls are padded with sound absorbing foam, black and grey squares line the walls and ceiling. Only the flashing red eye of the camera for company. I lean back in the armless mesh office chair provided, not too quickly though, my frame tends to cause things to tip over if I’m a bit too aggressive with my movements.
”When people talk about Las Vegas”, pausing I allow a small smile to tug at the corners of my mouth.
”They always like to fantasize about the big winners, the people who became rich with the pull of a slot machine handle or the luck of a poker hand.” I pause again, allowing the smile to fade into a more serious expression.
”They don’t want to talk about the people who risked it all and couldn’t even afford a bus ticket home.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my legs just above the knee.
“They don’t talk about the losers that end up homeless because they have a gambling problem and can’t stay out of the casinos.” Bringing my hands up, arms still resting on my legs, I steeple my fingers just in front of my face.
“No one likes to talk about things that are very real, about the people who don’t have a success story.” I move my hands away from my face returning them to the previous position.
”People no longer in our society want to root on the underdog, and hope that they’re able to turn it around. They’ve discarded their humanity and embraced the mob mentality and a lust for blood. I shake my head in dismay, and then stand before continuing.
I’ve often asked myself, what has this world come to that we’ve reversed our evolution to this point. Then I realize that no one really cares about what we’ve become. They simply want more of it. Now I begin to move, pacing back and forth like some caged animal. Then I stop, and I glare at the camera.
”I come from a long line of professional wrestlers, this industry is one of the most important things in my life. Not the most important, but it runs a close second to my loved ones.” I don’t allow my glare to soften at all as I raise my voice slightly.
“Some people talk about their faith and that it carries them through. They have their God but I feel it’s necessary to point out that this business is my religion.” I allow that statement to linger there for a moment, hoping that it sinks in for anyone watching this. With a balled up fist to accentuate each of the following points I slam my fist into the palm of my other hand.
“I live, eat and breath wrestling.” With the third and final blow, I pause more for effect than anything. Then spreading my arms,
”Obviously with my track record, I’m not a purist when it comes to this business. I am however very much an old school, tradition matters, kind of guy.”[color] I continue after another short pause. “You don’t have to be a brain surgeon to figure out that with my size and demeanor that violent conduct is second nature to me.” I’m openly smirking now as I continue towards talking about one of my opponents. “Something that’s very foreign to me though is that attitude that Calloway has about his career and this business. Sure you’ve lost some matches, so what?”
Moving a little closer to the camera, ”It’s the nature of this business, we all accept that very early on. Losing matches doesn't make you a loser Stevo.” I shake my head no, ”Your attitude and your work ethic are what make you a loser sir.”. The smirk being replaced with a smile now. ”That’s what makes this town such a terrible fit for you. For a loser, Las Vegas can be the meanest town on earth my man. Don’t feel bad though, there’s a lot of people out there like you, they call Vegas home as well. You would think that going into a match like this that I would be the underdog. You’d also be wrong, so very wrong. Sure, it’s been a hot minute since I was in a six sided ring, that’s not something that slows a man like me down one bit. No matter how many sides a ring has, the middle of it and a three count are all that matters. You’re getting an opportunity, Stephen an opportunity to prove that a title shot for you makes sense to the people who make the decisions in SCW.”
I turn and start making my way back to the chair provided. “Yes, you’re a veteran of the sport, and I should show you more respect than that. I stop short of the chair and turn back around facing the camera. “That’s simply not going to happen. Being a veteran of this business and five bucks will get you a cup of coffee at starbucks but that’s about it.”. Still standing I slowly turn back around. “I don’t expect anyone in this match to respect anything I say or any of the things I’ve done in my career. What I do expect, is that your top tier talent begins to pay attention to me right from the beginning. After this match is done, they’ll know exactly who’s coming for their title. It doesn’t matter which one, I plan on holding them all at some point in my time in Sin City.”.
Fear and Loathing - Act 2, Scene 1
Las Vegas, Nevada
Off-Camera
Knowing the desert is hot and experiencing it are two vastly different things. Being used to the heat of Texas summers, I hadn’t really thought about it much. It was dryer here, sure, but hot is hot. I looked up at the digital display from the bank for about the eleventh or twelfth time, it would show the time, three forty-four, and then the current temperature of one hundred four degrees fahrenheit.
I do believe I’ve discovered the gates of hell.I say to no one in particular, Amber had gone into the shopping center based on a lead she’d gotten. I reluctantly agreed to staying in the car. She had this way of disappearing in crowds. It was the damndest thing, she somehow made herself small and went unnoticed. Being well over six feet tall and close to three hundred pounds, I couldn’t do what she does. So I kept the car running to keep it cooled off and she did the leg work. Well, as much as she could with that banged up ankle. Using the button on the drivers side panel, I lower the window a bit. I light a cigarette and inhale deeply. uConnect notifies me that I have a message….
Incoming call from RedI press the corresponding button to answer the call.
I found Josie. Come on in the shop. Last door on the left in the main hall. Okay, I’ll be there in a sec. Josie or Josephine McDermit, She’d been a ride builder and ride jock. She’d gotten out when a section of roller coaster track had fallen and nearly hit her. She’d managed to put quite a lot of money back and left the carnival to go to college. The “shop” where amber found her was actually the office of a CPA in Las Vegas. She had gone to school to become an accountant. I scoffed at first, but the look on her face, well, that told me that she wasn’t kidding and was mildly insulted that I thought she made it up. I killed the engine, regrettably, I know by the time we got back in it would be hot as hell. I lock it up as I walk toward the center. I find the suite, “Murphy and Murphy CPA” is stenciled in white on the door, just below the suite number One hundred and seventy-five.
I followed Amber’s directions and found the office she indicated. I turn the knob and open the office door. I sweep the room with my eyes, finding Amber, she’s looking very tense. I’m assuming that it means that Josie really didn’t have much information for her.
Mac, I wanted you to meet my old friend JosieJosephine McDermit had become Josephine Murphy based on the name tag she was wearing. I smiled and crossed the room. I shake her hand and she mine. I could feel her weight and measure me as I crossed the room. I’m sure that growing up in the carnie environment had likely taught her it was a wise thing to do.
Josie, a pleasure to meet you.A strong handshake from a woman was not something new for me, even though my hand swallowed hers she seemed unphased. She smiled sweetly as she responded. I however can recognize a fake smile from a mile off.
And for me to meet you, Amber...he is a big one.The smirk from Amber, gave me pause but only for a moment, then nonplussed I responded. I felt like there was a hidden joke there somewhere but I don’t press for information, I simply flash her my smile.
Yes ma’am.I study her wall, seeing first an associates degree from a junior college in Florida, followed by her bachelors from Mississippi State. Her wall was spotless, no dust there, made me wonder if she dusted daily or if someone did it for her. Between that and the well organized desk, it really spoke to her OCD or professional nature, then tended to go hand in hand with these nine to five types.
You’ve done very well for yourself, JosieShe catches my stare at her wall of degrees and awards, some from the local business groups. She smiles a large smile before addressing my attention to her wall. Her wall of fame was impressive to say the least.
Thank you, a lot of hard work and it’s been very rewarding to say the least.Amber decided the time for pleasantries was over, I had known it would be like this though. She was really wanting to find her childhood friend and get this mission over with. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
I do have a question for you JosieAmber digs out an old picture and places it on the mahogany desk in front of her. Josie smiled at the old picture of her, Amber and Cassie together. She looks up at Amber, with the obvious question in her eyes.
I’ve been looking for herJosie studies the picture for a moment, she smiles a sad smile and pushes it back to Amber. Shaking her head in dismay, as if some long forgotten memory had come back to haunt her.
I can safely say that I haven’t seen or heard from her since the day I left. I loved her dad, he’s a good man, he certainly never deserved the label of “Carnie Trash”. Amber frowns, probably disappointed and frustrated by a dead end. I say nothing, giving her a chance to collect her thoughts.
Thanks Josie….he’s dying. That’s the reason I’m looking for her. If you hear from her, please call me or have her call me.Without another word Amber stands up and I grab the keys from my pocket and I use the remote start, The engine is on, it won’t be cooled off by the time we get out there but it won’t matter to either of us much. Josie shoots me an apologetic look and I stand, tipping my hat to her, I move to follow Amber out the door. I felt like we would have a few of these before we would be able to find someone who knew who she was and had talked to her. It’s a process, Amber knows this having done this kind of thing before.
Fear and Loathing - Act 3, Scene 1 - Baltimore, MD.
They say that, the last thing that you think about at night and the first thing you think about in the morning are the most important things to you. On a personal level, that was Amber for me. This beautiful redhead had so completely captured my heart and soul...to be honest it was amazing to me. So, needless to say, I had been awake for a few minutes before she gently squeezed my hand and slid out of bed. I had actually woken when I heard the ding of the coffee maker begin it’s morning ritual. I simply laid there and pretended to still be sleeping. We were together more times than not these days, and to be honest I preferred it that way.
I slowly got up and got dressed myself, finding my jeans on the bedside table, with the white crew neck t-shirt laid on top of it. I slid the t-shirt on, plain white cotton, my blue jeans, simple wrangler’s. I pulled my boots on for good measure. It seemed that while we slept, according to the display on my phone, autumn had come to Maryland.
What’s a twenty degree difference... I’d always preferred the summer, more work got done during that time of the year. Of course this was the mind of a rancher coming into play. I had to put that away for the time being and focus on my debut. The men I had hired to help me run my place, always had things well in hand. They were experienced and that allowed me to focus on wrestling. I was always thankful for the minimal interruptions for things going on at the “Crooked M”. Stamping my feet and feeling the last inch or so give in and allow my heel to settle into place in my right boot, a grin forms, tugging at the corners of my mouth. I hear the chime of the coffee maker having completed its cycle.
Ah, yeah...the song of my people. I make my way to the kitchen and notice that my pack of smokes is gone. The lighter though had fallen on the floor and rested comfortably by the leg of the table. I crouch down and grab it, stuffing it in my pocket while I get the coffee made.
You won’t be smoking much without that Red. I knew something had been bothering her, she had quit smoking...again, the other day. The storm behind her eyes revealed something very different than what she said. I knew that losing the world title...that was eating at her. She had a Roxi on her mind here in SCW. This next match was critical for her. Looking down at the coffee cups, now both steaming from the hot liquid inside of them. I’ve often wondered this as I went to pick them up...
Why are standard cups so small?I make my way to the back door, setting one of the cups down, I turn the knob slowly to open the back door. I look out the open door and see her walking around with a cigarette and nothing to light it with. She hasn’t seen or heard me yet though, so I grin as I make my way out to where she was.
I thought you quit smoking...Fade…
On-Camera
{Promotional - Augustino}
I’ve returned to sitting in the provided chair, as I address the young man known as Augustino.
While I’m new to Sin City, I’m certainly not new to the wrestling business. Unlike Augustino, he’s still very green, wet behind the ears so to speak. Which I’m certain that he’s watching this right now and just checked behind his ears to see if they were indeed wet. You sir are an interesting human being. Not a lot of people can make the transition from motor sports to wrestling. Big props to you for that my man. I know it must be frustrating because so many of the boys don’t take you as a serious threat. You’ve beaten a few people of note, but until you get that signature win, it’s never going to change. I’m not talking about a count out victory here man, I’m talking about a clean in the center of the ring dominant performance. I’ll be completely honest, I don’t know a lot about any of my competitors in this match. Watching tapes on you guys, sure, but that doesn’t tell the real story until you are in the ring with them.
The same goes for you Augustino, I hope you do your homework before this match. It won’t help you prepare for what’s waiting on the other side of that six sided ring. Like many of the people here, one thing I’ve noticed is how much you cling to past accomplishments. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t be proud of success, no matter how limited that might be. You’re past successes in motorcycle racing don’t amount to crap inside a wrestling ring little man. You’re a ten time champion, if your biography can be believed. Is it true though? Or did the front office help you construct this elaborate farce to make you appear to be something you’re not. Everyone has a desire to be a winner at some level. Las Vegas is full of those people, they’re all losers, they pretend to be otherwise but at the end of the day, they cry themselves to sleep at night.
Let’s be fair though, let’s talk about recent success. Take your recent win against Storm for example, while it’s important in your mind, not really so much to anyone else. Sure, he was a legit contender for a title, and you beat him. It’s very likely that he was looking past you to the title shot, a guaranteed title shot. What in the world makes you believe that he took his match with you seriously? Maybe he took you lightly and you pulled out a significant win for yourself. Sadly though my friend, it’s only significant to you. It’s obviously not significant to the people in Sin City that make the decisions. If it were, you’d have a title match of your own instead of slumming with the new guy. Look at it from a more positive aspect for a moment. If you win this match, you will have beaten two former world champions. If you lose? Well, it’s just another minor setback for you right? I mean, if we’re being positive about it.
Fade
Fear and Loathing - Act 3, Scene 2
On-Camera
The desert was a funny place, during the day, the heat was in the triple digits and at night it would drop by thirty degrees. I guess the universe does have a sense of humor after all. Amber hadn’t made it home quite yet so I sat on the back deck. I know it may seem odd to have a firepit in the backyard of a home in Vegas but even during the summer, the nights have a chill to them. In addition to that, I love fire, or at least I enjoy starting them. That’s exactly what I had in mind for this debut in Sin City.
”To start a fire that cannot be extinguished.” I mused to myself as I watched the flames dance and lick the edges of the fire pit. I lean back into the chair and light a cigarette. I take a drag, inhaling, then exhaling forcefully.
”It’s been a long road.”, I say as I think about the past couple of years. About two years ago, I lost the mother of my children to cancer. That was a dark time for all of us, most especially for my kids. Jimmy and Aeric were both already adults, Jules though, she was sixteen at the time. That took a toll on us as a family.
”And now she’s off to college.” I smile as I say it. Rightly so, she’s accomplished so much. I feel that we accomplished a lot as a family.
”All the chicks have left the nest.”, I say that out loud and it makes me feel proud and kind of sad all at the same time. I take another drag, this time exhaling slowly, and enjoying it, so much that it brings a smile to my face. The one thing that bothers me and when I think about it, the smile disappears.
”What did doing the right thing in this business ever get you but stabbed in the back?”, I ask myself in earnest. Knowing full and well it’s a rhetorical question that many have asked themselves.
”Not a damn thing, Bane, not a damn thing.”, the musing continues as I take another drag from the cigarette.
”Then whatever shall we do about that, Mac?”, I’m now thoroughly amusing myself with this.
”Well Mac, maybe we should just burn it all down and make them rebuild it. Make them rebuild it using a higher standard.”.
Fade
{Promotional - Kane}
And here I am saving the best for last. Lachlan Kane….I wonder if you’re any relation to Michael “Spike” Kane? Nah, probably not. Spike was a special kind of athlete, work ethic was off the charts and he had a nasty streak that would put most marvel villains to shame. He was also a professional and didn’t sit around crying about missed opportunities. He went out and made himself another one. Never dependent on luck or chance, he just got shit done. Doesn’t appear you have that level of ambition or desire in you, and until you develop a killer instinct kid, you’ll always be where you are right now. Being nothing more than fodder for the next batch of real talent walking through the door.
Your bio on the website says your Irish. That true? If it is, then where is your fight? Got your ass handed to ya on that cruise ship in such a way that you slunk back to the mixed tag division so your wife could carry your dead weight. Must be a tough pill to swallow huh? I keep hearing you call yourself “the scrapper”, I just don’t get it and I damn sure don’t see it. I’ll say it again, louder this time for the people in the back, where is your fight?! You damn sure better bring it to the ring when we face one another. If you don’t, I hope you at least make some mental notes about what a real fighter looks like. What I do in that ring...it’s criminal Kane. I take no prisoners in between the ropes. I ask for no quarter and I damn sure give none.
Augustino says he’ll do absolutely anything within the rules to win a match. That of course is a very honorable thing to say right? What about you Kane? Will you do anything,as long as it’s within the rule book? Probably, you’re one of the people that the fans adore. It’s people like me and Calloway that prosper though and do you know why? It’s because we’ll win by any means necessary. I don’t care about their collective adoration. I don’t care about your wanting to do the honorable thing. What I do care about is getting paid and winning titles. That’s what matters to me. For the time being, Alex Jones is your measuring stick for success. That’s cute and all, but what if I told you, that I hold myself to a higher standard.
Before long, you’ll all be held to a higher standard.
Fade.
