“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
{Snuffing Out The Candle Of Hope - In-Studio - Mac and Amber’s House, Las Vegas, NV}
[On-Camera: Recording]
I stared out the window, the grey clouds streamed by overhead, driven by a strong south bound wind. My hands clasped behind my back and my head bowed in thought. I slowly unclasp my hands, the soft scraping of my denim sleeves against the belt loops of my jeans the only noise as I allow my arms to rest by my side. I slowly turn and face the camera.
“They say that dreams are born in the darkness, that a dreamer spends vast amounts of time in the darkness, with their focus on the light at the far end of their journey. The dreamer travels toward the source of light, that single point of hope. They develop tunnel vision and become devoted to a single path. That point of light where they can make their dreams become reality. Our opening round opponents felt this was true, all they had to do was get past Myra and I and their path was assured. Except for one thing, Amy and her partner, the former World Nightmare Champion from GRIME, Max Burke never thought they’d lose. Even though they were considered underdogs by a large margin. All you had to do is pay attention to the betting lines on the match. This is Vegas afterall.”
The lights in the room are dim, so I light two candles on the window sill. Then I turn back around smiling slightly.
“I’ve faced Bill before. The last time I was in Sin City, he’s who I fought for the number one contender status for the Roulette title. Granted, that title doesn’t really hold any prestige, but it allowed me to set a precedent. That being, that if I want something? I simply take it. That match against the so-called bulldog was as close as the title match I had with the champion.
It wasn’t.
Kedron was no champion, even that title deserved better than him. I’m the one that added prestige to that title, only briefly though as personal matters took me away from Sin City.”
I watch the candles burn, and then pinch the flame out of one of them with my thumb and index finger. I rub my thumb and index finger together with a smile.
“Max and Amy were at least worthy opponents, former champions in SCW and GRIME, respectively. Bill is known to me, just as Maki is known to Myra. I also know that Myra’s title is on the line in this match. It is not lost on me that should Myra and I lose this match, then your partner becomes the Bombshell Internet Champion as well. Just as long as it’s Maki that makes the pin. I’m not about to allow that to happen to Myra. Don’t get me wrong, she and I are not friends. We have the same goal. A shot at a world title. If nothing else, she learned last week that I don’t have a lot of patience. Time is money, if you want to put on a wrestling clinic, talk to boys and girls clubs of america, I’m sure they’ll accommodate you. Hell they might even pay you for your time.”
I extinguish the second candle in the same way as the first. I don’t turn back around this time though, I continue to stare out the window and watch the clouds roll by.
“Maki is Myra’s problem to deal with. Not a big problem, more of an annoyance really. Like Mosquitos in Texas in July. I mean, my favorite redhead destroyed you with minimum effort. Amber made you look like a clown, so I really won’t spend too much time on you. I will say that I tried to find something that I could give you a compliment of some kind on. Some redeeming quality of your character or some accomplishment that I could use. I went looking through the records of Bombshell division and, not that I looked that long or hard but I don’t remember your name being mentioned anywhere.”
I shrug my shoulders indifferently.
“Myra knows who you are and I guess that’s all that’s important. It won’t do you a damn bit of good, it will end the same way that our match against Amy and Max went. See, there’s a difference between doing whatever it takes, as I know you are both wired that way, and being able to do whatever it takes to win. You two are nothing more than a pair of wannabe stars. The proof is all over the damn place, I shouldn’t have to shine a spotlight on it for you two to understand. Yet here we are.
The team of Maki and Bill B. Two more dreamers in SCW, hoping to catch us unaware. You hope that we’ll look past you. You hope you’ll find some chink in our armor as a team. You hope that you can win.”
I turn my head just enough so the camera can catch as I smirk back at the candles again.
“And just like that, the light of hope was extinguished.”
Fade.
{Mac and Amber’s House, Las Vegas, NV - “The Plan”}
[Off-Camera]
I’ve always been the type of person that did the right thing, because it was the right thing to do. I’d recently visited with my old mentor, Frank Zane. Him and my dad had taught me that was the way to be. Frank insisted though that it was time to put more of who I really am out there for people to see. You have to be careful doing what I’m doing now, sometimes when you put yourself out there it can turn out badly. My focus now though was Charles Marlowe and the growing problem that the MC called the Bandido’s was causing in Vegas, not Vegas proper but in some of the outlier areas.
“You want me to, what?”, I asked again. Charles cringed, he knew he was asking me a lot. I also knew he hated to ask me. The problem was that he had been so severely injured that he was barely able to defend himself right now. He held up his hands in mock surrender, albeit very slowly. His right arm was barely out of a sling and it was still healing so his movements were much slower than normal.
“I want you to help me put a stop to them. Get their leaders and everyone involved.”, he stated again for probably the third time. I shook my head and stood up from the kitchen table. That’s when the pacing began, sure I’d done some wet work for Jeff a few times but this was different. These people knew who I was, they knew who my family was. Amber and I were supposed to be getting married in April for fucks sakes. I certainly didn’t want a wedding to turn into a funeral. At the same time though, taking on this kind of operation was something I was well accustomed to. It’s what the military had trained me to be.
“Chuckie, if I do this, you had better make sure there are eyes on every member of my family. If anything happens to them, I’m coming after you. I don’t give a fuck if you are a federal agent. You’ll be hurt in the same manner that they had been. You understand?”. I say with finality, he looks at me and I know he understands. I was more than certain that he knew about some of the things I had done overseas. I was also sure he disliked those things regardless of the reasons why or the orders that forced me into those situations. He kept giving me that look, a look that said many things without saying a word. Finally it was me that broke the silence.
“I’ll keep it as clean as possible, no one has to die, but also remember this. It’s my ass on the line out there and I’ll do whatever it takes to come home to my family.”, I stated it flatly and without emotion so he understood the gravity of the situation he had placed me in. What he didn’t realize was that this is such a big part of who I had become as a person that secretly and I hate to admit this. I embraced opportunities like this.
Marlowe simply nodded his head, “I understand, maybe now more than ever.”. He said it with emotion and conviction as he reached up and unconsciously touched the tender part of a wound that was still healing. The plan was that I would call on them and try to get a meeting to set up my joining the band so to speak. It turned out that I didn’t have to do any such thing…
My default ringtone began to play, “Badass” by Saliva echoed from the speakers on my mobile. The caller i.d. Read, “Private”, that could only mean that John Waverly Pike was calling. I walk away from Marlowe and accept the call. “This is Mac.”, I say as nonchalantly as possible. There’s a short pause before he responds.
“Bane this is Pike, have you reconsidered my offer?”, he asks in a voice that’s almost a whisper.
“I have.”, I responded to him in a soft, even manner. I knew his type, he hated the word no, and when that wasn’t what you gave them more often than not surprises them. This was one of those times. I had caught him flat footed, the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line was all I needed to hear to know that.
“Excellent, is the secret agent boy still there?” was his next question. That let me know they were watching him and my home. It was both good and bad at the same time.
“He is.”, that was the question I was dreading but it caused me to smile on the inside. I really couldn’t quite put a finger on why but the feeling of elation that came over me, that caught me by surprise.
“That’s good, if you step outside, you’ll find a box on your front porch. Inside that box are your colors.” He said in a more confident voice. “You don’t have to wear them in public, or even to the ring. Just the fact that you’ve accepted them is all me and the boys need. Don’t worry about Marlowe, we’re not going to kill him.”
I look back over my shoulder at Marlowe, he nods at me as the line goes dead.
Fade.
{In-Studio, Las Vegas, NV - “Garbage Time”}
I stood in front of the Sin City Wrestling backdrop, just hours before showtime. The camera was already rolling. The black leather duster and stetson are now gone. Replaced by a skull cap with my brand on it and a sleeveless shirt of denim with pearl snaps down the front of it. Faded jeans and black boots complete the outfit. My hair hangs loosely around my shoulders instead of my usual ponytail. It was time to address the Sin City faithful before mine and Myra’s second round match against Maki and Bill.
“Where do I even begin with this horseshit, y’all?” I say with emotion in my voice. I had been involved with a social media dispute earlier in the day with Maki. I shake my head in disgust.
“Anytime a competitor says on social media, “I’ll just let you maximize your ring time and beat Myra for the Internet Title….”, really mother fucker? So, what if it’s you and I that start the match and I beat you senseless and she never even sniffs the fucking ring?”
I’m angry about his attitude towards the match. I hadn’t even watched his promo yet, I’d do that later. This was about him being lazy and worse, her being an idiot.
“Maki, you’re a dipshit. Instead of being pissed off by your partner’s lack of enthusiasm for even being in this tournament, you told him thank you?”
I give the camera my best “what the fuck” look.
“Seriously? And I quote, “Thank you, Daddy Bill”. I’m going to enjoy watching Myra destroy you. Oh, and by the way, your match against Amber was never competitive. She beat your ass, and you know it.”
Grumbling angry words under my breath and now pacing. The fact that the camera operator and the boom mic attendant couldn’t keep it together because of what I had said was not lost on me. They were openly laughing at the comments I had made.
“Even the ham and eggers here are laughing at you two. It’s almost like they see you as the punchline to some really bad joke. You’re used to that though aren’t you Billy Bob. I mean, you didn’t even want to team with your old lady anymore right? Told her not to worry about whether she was booked for the shows. You needed her to support you in your endeavors. If Bea is smart and I know she’s smarter than you Bill. She’ll hire a good attorney and cut her losses. You don’t even deserve to be in the same ring with athlete’s like Myra and I. You’re a waste of fucking carbon. Where is your drive, your ambition, your passion for this business?”
I must have struck a nerve with the crew, they had stopped laughing and now were studying me very intently. Hanging on my every word.
“Maybe that part of this is lost on you Bill. Maybe you simply don’t get it. You are simply too damn dumb for this business. You’re lazy as well and I think that makes it even worse. Did you wake up one morning and realize you’re not talented enough for this tournament and would never win a world title here? Did you give up and decide...fuck it I’ll let Maki take us as far as she can?”
I sneer at the camera as I continue.
“It must be hard to rely on the talent of others, even though you know in this case. It’s simply not enough. Maki, for all of your talent, how ever much or little that might be. It won’t be enough. You are like the proverbial one legged man in an ass kicking contest. You’ve been handicapped for the second year in a row with a partner who doesn’t share your passion for competition. He’s satisfied to just still have a job. He collects a curtain jerkers paycheck and is more than happy with that. If it wasn’t so damn pathetic, I’d feel sorry for you both. He’s not committed to the task at hand like my partner is. Myra’s more man than Bill is, and that’s the damn truth. I’m sure you’ll be fine in the ring against her unless you piss her off and the ring bell is handy that is.”
I allow the memory to come to me and I smile.
“That’s what my partner is capable of. I know she’s turned over a new leaf since she’s been here and I applaud that. Knowing though what she’s capable of if she’s pushed to the limit or if someone pushes her buttons too often. That’s the difference between her and you Maki. She knows what it takes, and she’s not afraid to go there. You don’t have one tenth of Myra’s ability and less than that when it comes to passion for this business. You didn’t have an exit strategy in mind for this tournament because you thought that no one could beat you. You’re about to find out how very wrong you are about that. You’re about to find out first hand what it’s like to have that light of hope extinguished. Like they say in other pro sports though, there’s always next year.”
Fade.
