The sound of chuckling can be heard coming from a rather sparse apartment. The typical wall decorations that one would expect are nowhere to be seen as if the room was in the middle of dressing. The furniture scattered around the room was eclectic and mismatched. The large, plush recliner indicated comfort and relaxation while the square couch wasn’t inviting at all. In the middle of it, Connor Murphy stood his cell in his hand as he looked around at the mess of his livingroom. Taking in the boxes of leftover Chinese slowly congealing and the bottles of a rather boisterous party resting on the table, Connor smirks as he listens to whoever it is on the phone.
“I know sweetheart but I couldn’t wait to get back to Vegas. Dev said he was going to throw me a bash for winning against Alexis and Steve. Tessa love, you know I wish you were here but Dev couldn’t wait,” Connor explains. He rubs his hands through his hair making it stand more on end. Dressed in only a pair of rather baggy flannel pajama pants and nothing else, Connor sighs and nods as he listens before ending the conversation.
“I’ll see you when you get back,” he says as he pulls the phone away from his ear and presses release. As he hangs up the phone the door to one of the bedrooms opens and a young blonde woman walks out in a barely there dress that had seen better nights on better floors. Connor swallows and self-consciously tries to cover himself.
The girl only giggles and then with a quick wave, she moves towards the kitchen area and looks around for a coffee maker or kettle. “I don’t suppose you have anything to make coffee do you?” she asks with a confused look on her face as her hunt proves fruitless.
Still standing in the living room, Connor shakes his head slowly with a shrug. “I ain’t seen the need to get anything like that,” he says as he scratches at his bare chest then as if almost realizing that he was nearly naked, he moves to grab a shirt out of his room. As he opens the door, a redhead is reaching for the other side and squeaks in surprise. Connor staggers back slightly then motions her through the door before disappearing himself into the room. Through the open door he can hear the two women begin to chatter about coffee and breakfast.
Taking a moment to confirm that his bed was now empty, he opens the closet to reveal a row of tees and button up flannels. Grabbing a worn greyish tee with his image on it, he throws it over his head and struggles to get his arms into it. Catching a look at himself in the mirror, he smirks then brushes his hands down his head to flatten out his hair into some semblance of order.
Walking back into the living room, Connor spies his friend Devlin Lefebvre smirking as he has an arm over the shoulders of each of the girls. Connor can see the lack of sleep has given Dev a haunted look with sunken eyes that are in total contrast to the rather large “shit eating” grin on his face. Looking from the blonde to the brunette, Devlin spares a glance for his friend. “Mindy and Cindy here are going to get ready then the four of us are going out for breakfast,” says Dev as he gently gives the girls a push toward the bathroom. The brunette turns and gives him a wrinkled nose look as she puts one hand on her hip. “My name’s not Mindy silly, it’s Mandy!” she exclaims which only causes Devlin to walk over and put a knuckle under her chin and offer her a rather charming smile.
“Mindy, Mandy..Cindy Candy…both of you are the sweetest things,” he jokes as once again he points them towards the bathroom and offers each a soft pat on their bottoms. With a giggle, the two of them disappear into the other room as Devlin turns to his friend. “Do you think she picked up on the fact that I forgot who she was?” he asks worriedly.
“Nah, no clue whatsoever,” answers Connor as he grabs at the fridge door and pulls it open to reveal a rather sparse selection of beer and water bottles with a lone bottle of ketchup and half a loaf of moldy bread that he pulls out with two fingers before tossing it out. Rubbing his hands along the flannel to clean them, Connor swipes at a water bottle and slams the door shut. As he does, he hears the shower start. “So Dev, what do we have planned for this week?” he demands as he turns to find Dev reading his cell phone in the plush recliner.
Devlin looks at the man then waves the phone at him. “Looks like you got an email here to do an interview on a public access television show. Email says they want to talk to you about the Blast from the Past match you have this week. What, you don’t get time off?”
Connor shakes his head and moves to the couch to sit down. “Life of a wrestler…” he mumbles at his friend before sipping at the drink.
Devlin nods as if he completely understood the comment before once again looking at the phone. “So you never said who you were facing,” adds Dev.
“Despnphsyl,” mumbles Connor as he looks away.
“Huh?” replies Dev with a quirked eyebrow.
“Despy and Crystal,” enunciates Connor with an aggrieved look on his face. “I’m facing a spoiled movie starlet and a perpetual motion manchild that I have faced before and who kept me from winning the Internet title when I faced him. That little guy is all over the place and about as easy to catch as a streak of lightning.”
“You can catch him Con,” vows Devlin. “He’s gotta face you in the ring and when he does come at you, kick the crap out of him and ground him. If he can’t bounce around, he can’t fight back,” says Devlin. “Ground the monkey and you got it made in the shade. Speaking of shade…those girls are taking an awfully long time in the shower, maybe I should check on them,” he offers as he pulls himself out of the chair and moves at a slow pace to the bathroom door, his eyebrows waggling as he shoots a glance back at his friend. Opening the door, he calls out to them. “Everything ok in here?”
A feminine giggle escapes the room as one voice can be heard to complain that there wasn’t anyone to wash their backs. Devlin looks at his friend and then putting his hand over his heart, he turns back to the girl. “I am so willing to lend a hand ladies,” he offers beform motioning with his other hand to Connor to join him. Dev walks into the bathroom to be greeted with more giggles.
Connor pulls himself off the couch then moves slowly to the bathroom. About half way, Devlin’s voice urges him to hurry as Mandy or Cindy was waiting. Stopping only to pull the tee over his head Connor moves into the bathroom as his friend can be heard to say that they were there to help.
<img src=http://i61.tinypic.com/2a9snz8.jpg>
Connor stands outside of a small nondescript building in downtown, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes and a cigarette hanging from his lips. Dressed in a pair of jeans with an NXT Rogue world tour shirt hidden under an open leather jacket Connor looks relaxed as he takes the cancerstick from his mouth then lets it drop in front of him only to stifle it with one twist of his boot.
“Excuse me, are you Connor Murphy?” asks a smaller man who moves up to Connor. Connor turns and nods only to be waved into the building. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Connor follows him into the building and into a studio that has a homemade set with the words “Point/Counterpoint” in white against a rather blinding swirl of color. Connor walks further into the studio only to see an image of a bear on a television screen. Recognizing Angel, Connor turns quickly to look for the bear.
“Mr. Angel is not in the studio Mr. Murphy. He sends his regrets but he did send the responses to the questions that I am going to be asking the both of you concerning your match at Climax Control in Tempe,” says the little man who moves towards a camera and begins to discuss the lighting and set up of the set.
Connor moves towards the desk and picks up the small nametag that is resting in front of the chair where he is to sit. Sitting in the folding chair, Connor twists slightly and puts his feet up to wait for the start of the show. As he does, the host of the show appears in a rather loud and checked suit jacket with a contrasting tie. Moving to sit between Connor and the screen, he looks up at the camera.
“So are we ready to start the show Dex?” he says in a Ron Burgundy voice of a seventies newcaster. At a nod from his director, the journalist runs his hands over the patently fake moustache gracing his upper lip. “Then let’s get this show on the road shall we?”
Connor pulls his feet down as the camera focus on the newcaster who gargles quickly with an amber liquid that he swallows before checking his breath. Once he smiles at the scent of whiskey covered in mint is achieved, he motions for the cameraman to begin to film.
“Good evening and welcome to Point Counterpoint Sin City Wrestling and tonight my guests are the image of Angel, the manager of Despayre who sadly could not be here,” says the journalist while a laugh track cheers before he continues, “and his client’s opponent in the match, Connor Murphy.” The track changes from cheers to boos which makes Connor look around then glare at the announcer. “Tonight I am going to get the point, counter point between these two. Since Angel and Despayre could not be here, I have sent the questions to them before tonight and have received their responses..”
The announcer smirks into the camera as he waves the papers in his hand then straightens out the papers in front of him. As he does, Connor looks over to attempt to read the responses that even from his view can be seen to be written in purple crayon.
“Our first question I guess we should be asking is just what do you think your chances will be when the two of you face off in the ring. I mean the last time the two of you were in a match against each other you were fighting for the Internet title which,” the newscaster pauses to glance at the notes on the paper. “Despayre won handily.”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” says Connor as he holds up his hands to argue the comment. “Despayre didn’t win handily. If I remember correctly, I managed to give him the fight of his life. I almost took his title that night and this week I have a chance to kick him out of the tournament,” adds Connor before leaning back to cross his arms over his chest as he smirks at the image of Angel. As he does, the sound of a fax machine can be heard in the back behind the announcer who turns and pulls out the sheet.
“According to this, Mr. Angel does agree with Connor but his version is slightly different. He acknowledges that Despayre sometimes thinks that he doesn’t deserve the wins because he is going to be beaten by opponents and I have to remind him that he is a winner,” reads the announcer as a track of “aww” can be heard from the sound board. Connor can’t believe the onesidedness of the interview as he leans forward.
“Listen I am giving it to Despy, that little energizer bunny is a tough little ball of fluff but in that ring something happens to me when I get inside of it. I tend to get into the mood to fight and when that happens, well, might not be a good thing for Despy,” says Connor with a smirk. Only moments later, the fax once more goes off and another message comes through.
“According to this message, Mr. Angel says that Despayre is like that too. He can be funloving but when it comes to matches, however he knows how to get down to business too. Have you seen the other men he has faced…bigger men and tougher men than Connor there…I mean here.”
Rolling his eyes, Connor motions at the fax machine then at the screen. “Listen, I am debating this match over a public access show against a bear for…” Connor’s expletive filled response is bleeped out in the studio which makes him cover his ears in pain. “Who was the nimrod that contacted me for this shit?” he demands as the laugh track once again boos him. Ignoring them, he pulls out his cell phone and swipes his fingers across the screen and begins to scroll through his emails. Suddenly he stops then looks up at the people in the studio that are desperately trying to avoid his eyes. Narrowing his eyes, he glares at the studio occupants and holds up his phone. “Who is Despyfan#1?”
The producer of the show smirks as he holds up his hand. “I am and I am totally making you look bad by making you do this while we have someone sending those faxes to us from the other room…”
Connor throws up his hands and then glaring at the producer, he pulls at the microphone that is attached to his shirt and tosses it at the desk before walking off without another word. The newscaster looks right into the camera. “As you can see, Connor Murphy is a volatile maniac that is going to be humbled by Despayre in the semi finals of the Blast from the Past Tournament. We gave you the exclusive and I for one think that…”
The newscaster is interrupted by the fax machine going off again. He reaches over expecting another sending from the other room but instead is looking at a drawing of a very angry growling bear. Looking up at the screen he notices that the image has changed to reveal the chair empty as the sounds of claws can be heard walking away accompanied by a few well placed growls before the chick of coins into a jar can be heard off screen.
“This says that Despayre will no longer respond to any requests from you about appearing on your show in the future.”
Connor leaves the studio angrily, his hand rummaging in his pocket for a cigarette. Just as he makes his way to the front door, a scream of what sounds like someone dying can be heard carrying on the air towards him. “Wonder what happened there,” he comments almost to himself as he pushes open the door and disappears outside.
<img src=http://i61.tinypic.com/2a9snz8.jpg>
A man can be seen sitting in a chair, one leg over the arm as he slowly swirls a glass with an amber liquid topped with a cream colored foam in it. The man, with a mop of unkempt dark hair and the stubble of a couple of days shadowing his chin, smirks as if no one else is in the room.
“Blast from the Past tournament,” he begins before facing the camera to reveal it is Connor Murphy who is talking. Behind the camera, Devlin can be seen watching the small screen of the camcorder. “This is the farthest I have made it in the tournament and don’t get me wrong, I know I am one hell of a wrestler but seriously, I can’t claim all the glory.”
Swilling at the glass that he brings to his lips, he licks at the remnant of foam stuck to the peachy fuzz on his upper lip.
“I have to believe that my partner is one heck of a wrestler as well. Melanie Gabrielle is a former champion that still is in the title picture like the warrior that she is. I gotta give that girl props for helping me get this far. And I gotta give props to the people that I faced who made me that much better. I mean seriously, if it wasn’t for them, I would have been in the first round and out of the tournament like that,” he volunteers as he tries to snap his fingers. The lack of skill reveals that his blood alcohol might not be one hundred percent pure…
“This week I am in the semi finals,” he begins with a smirk as he holds up the now half empty glass to toast the camera. “And my opponents this week are Crystal Millar, silver screen queen…” Connor snickers as he motions to his crotch area with his empty hand as his glass filled one moves to tap at his nose. “And ‘her’ partner Despayre.”
Devlin nods and laughs at Connor’s comment which makes the camera move up and down shakily. “Too funny Con,” says Dev who reaches for his own glass to take a large sip.
Connor looks sagely at the camera only to let out a soft belch before starting to talk again. “Despayre, one hell of a wrestler or monkey or whatever you call him. I have faced him a bunch of times and he has beaten me every time…well most of the time it was in tag matches. And I have to give it to him that he can pull out the win from anywhere. But maybe, maybe it won’t come down to him and me Dev.”
Devlin can be heard to murmur into his drink. Connor nods like he understood the comment. “I know, I have to realize that I am probably seen as the missing link…”
“Weakest link,” interrupts Devlin as he moves the close up button.
Connor stops and shoots Devlin a questioning look. “Huh?”
“It’s weakest link Con,” says Devlin. “Missing link is like between monkeys and men.
“The way Despayre wrestles, maybe he is the missing link? After all he is all over that ring like some kind of squirrel monkey,” says Connor with a shrug. “But either way, I have to give it to the little man, he’s one hell of a monkey in that ring.”
“That’s what Adams keeps saying when he calls Despayre’s matches. But seriously Con…”
Connor holds up his hand holding the now empty drink. “Dev, I ain’t worried about the match. I got this match scouted well and if I don’t win then I can shift my focus. And if I do win, I can still shift my focus slightly.” Connor smiles as he fights to stand up then stumbles towards the kitchen. Yanking open the door of the fridge, he looks inside then leans against it to shout at his friend. “Dev, you finished the bottle? What the f..”
Connor claps a hand over his mouth as he notices that Devlin has pointed the camera in his direction. “Language Connor, kids could be watching,” teases Devlin. Connor glares at his friend then slams the door shut and sets the glass on the counter before leaning his hands on it and smirking into the camera.
“Despayre, I bet you aren’t worried about this match,” Connor says. “You will probably think back to our other matches and other fights and that’s ok. I tell you, manchild, you go. But this tournament is not about just you and me, it is about Crystal and Mel, our partners. And maybe it will come down to those two or it may come down to us. And if it does, fine. But I need to promise you something little man. One way or another in this tournament I have done some things that have been considered firsts.”
Looking harder into the camera, the genial smile on Connor’s lips freezes slightly. “One of the firsts is that I made it past the first round, the second is that I have made it to the semifinals and the third just might be that I am going to beat you for the first time in my career. With no title on the line, just the two of us on opposite teams and when the two of us are in the ring I have to tell you that I ain’t going to hold back one bit. And if I win, I win. If I lose, I lose. But one way or another I am going to prove to everyone that I am where I am supposed to be and that is in the top tier of wrestlers in Sin City.”
Connor leans forward once more and smirks into the camera, his good humor restored. “Win lose or draw Despy, it is going to be a pleasure to face you across the ring because you are one of the measuring sticks that people measure themselves against. And granted that I ain’t been able to get past you with a win, there is always a first time for everything.”
Devlin once more sends the camera view into a close up of Connor’s face, focusing on his eyes that reveals the slow sobering of Connor Murphy.
“Just one last message for my partner Mel, I am going to be ready at Climax Control so fear not, I won’t let you down because I know you won’t be letting me down,” he says before moving into the living room once more. “That’s enough Dev, my throat’s dry and you drank all the juice. Let’s find us a bar to wet our lips and find the next Ms Right Now.”
The friends start to laugh as Devlin presses stop the sets the camera down. The two reach for the keys to the apartment and exit as the scene fades out.
