Sunday At Climax Control
The Footage You Didn’t See…
The scene opens up just backstage of the BeeHoldzil Fighting Scouts Events Center in Fort Defiance, Arizona. We see the Sin of Wrath, Rage, standing just in front of a blank television monitor. He has his hands dropped down to his side, clenched into fists and he’s just staring at the screen. At nothing. The camera pans back just a little further to see Pussy Willow walk up behind Rage, confusion written all over her face.
Pussy: Rage? Are...are you okay?
She is given no response as Rage remains eerily silent and completely fixated on the television monitor.
Pussy: Rage, there is nothing on that monitor. Wh-what are you staring at?
She stumbles on her words nervously, knowing Rage’s tendency to lose his temper at the drop of a dime. Again there is no response, and Rage doesn’t even move an inch, save for the rise and fall of his chest from his slow breathing. Pussy Willow brings her hand up, contemplating tapping the big man on his shoulder, but three voices behind her steal her attention away.
Synn: What’s wrong with him? How long has he been like this?
Kittie: About a few minutes. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him. I just found him like this when I came looking for him after he went out to the ring and gave that little speech of his. I think he’s officially lost his marbles.
Despayre: Ooh no! Finding those marbles can be pretty tricky! Want me and Angel to help?!
Kittie manages to laugh, but Synn turns to Despayre and just shakes his head as the three of them walk up to Rage and Pussy Willow.
Pussy: Oh, hello guys. What’s wrong with Rage?
Kittie shrugs and shakes her head.
Kittie: No fu...freaking clue.
Despayre stands back, going off into his own little world temporarily as Synn steps in front of Rage. Rage’s eyes are glued to the television screen, and Synn turns to look at it, trying to get a sense of what may be wrong. He shakes his head, completely baffled, and he snaps his fingers in front of Rage’s face, not getting so much as a single blink. But Rage slowly blinks his eyes every now and then. Kittie and Pussy(HA!) watch on quietly as Synn tries to get Rage to snap out of his trance.
Synn: He’s just staring at the monitor. Something must triggered this. Any idea what he was watching?
Kittie shakes her head.
Kittie: No idea. Like I said, I was heading down the hall to find him…
Her voice quickly trails off as a lightbulb goes off inside her head. Synn just stares at her.
Synn: What? What is it?
Kittie: I passed another monitor when I was walking. J2H was responding to what he said. That...that has to be it.
Pussy: I’d have to agree with Kittie on this one. I was actually hoping to get Rage’s response to that, as well as speak to him about something else. But...I found him like this. Is...is he going to be okay?
Synn takes in a deep breath and shakes his head, still confused.
Synn: I honestly have no clue. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s completely unresponsive.
Pussy: Look at his knuckles. They’re completely white.
Despayre: Angel says a good kick to the shin might snap him out of it! Want me to try?!
Synn sends a stern look in Despayre’s direction.
Synn: I don’t think that is a good idea, Joshua. Let me try and figure this out.
Kittie cracks another amused smile as she turns and looks to Despayre. Her amusement fades quickly as she turns back to Rage and the concern returns to her face. Synn tries once again to get through to Rage, waving his hand in front of his face.
Synn: Rage? Rage, can you hear me?
Nothing but a slow blinking of his eyes in response. They’re not even entirely sure if Rage can even hear a word they are saying, or if he can and is just doing a great job at ignoring them. Whatever the case, it’s still concerning.
Synn: Rage come on. Snap out of it.
Still nothing. Synn takes a step back and lets out a sigh, at a loss over what to try next...if anything. They all stay silent for a while, trying to come up with a solution when Despayre shouts from behind them.
Despayre: HEY! UNCLE JAKE! SNAP OUT OF IT!
Synn and Kittie are shocked as they turn and stare at Despayre, but Pussy Willow keeps her attention on Rage. Synn is about to say something to Despayre, but Pussy Willow points to Rage.
Pussy: I...think it worked!
All eyes turn back to Rage, and his hands unclench at his sides and color begins to return to his knuckles. Rage slowly turns around and looks directly at Despayre.
Rage: The hell did you just call me?!
Despayre: Least we know he responds to his real name. Good thinking, Angel!
Synn and Kittie both shake their heads and Rage looks around, suddenly confused at why everyone is just staring at him.
Rage: What the hell are you guys looking at me like that for?
Kittie’s jaw drops a little. She’s about to speak up, but Synn beats her to the punch.
Synn: Are you alright?
Rage: Uh, yeah? I’m fine. Why?
Kittie: Like hell you’re fine! You were just standing there, completely catatonic, staring at that damn monitor! You were completely unresponsive!
Rage runs his hands over his head, a little lost.
Pussy: It was very strange. Did this have anything to do with--
Kittie immediately glares at Pussy Willow, shaking her head. She knows if it did have anything to do with what J2H said just a short time ago, that bringing it up again could set him off again. Rage looks confused, waiting for Pussy Willow to finish her question, but she doesn’t.
Synn: I’m not so sure you’re just fine, Rage. I have never seen you in a state like that before.
Rage: Look, I said I’m fine. I must have just spaced out or something. Thanks, Despy, for apparently snapping me out of it.
Despayre: No problemo! But I didn’t go with Angel’s first idea. He wanted me to kick you in the shin, but they wouldn’t let me!
Rage frowns.
Rage: Yeahhh...that was smart of them to stop ya from doing that.
Rage turns his attention to Pussy Willow.
Rage: Why the hell are you still here?
Kittie again shakes her head at Pussy Willow, warning her not to bring up J2H, and Pussy Willow smiles, avoiding the subject.
Pussy: I was just hoping to talk to you about everything you said out in a the ring a little while ago. As well as your’s and Sam’s semi-final match next week.
Rage: Was what I said not clear enough for ya? I really don’t feel like repeating myself, bitch.
Despayre: Swear jar! Boy, Angel, our Swear Jar Fund increases more each day!
Rage rolls his eyes and decides to wait until later to give Despayre his cash. He focuses back on Pussy Willow.
Rage: And as for my semi-final match next week? You’re a little early because it hasn’t even been decided yet.
Synn: Rage, I really think we should get you checked out in the medical locker room.
Rage shakes his head.
Rage: No need for that, Synn. I’m fine.
Pussy: I certainly hope so. Because, what you could potentially be up against next week is challenging any way you look at it.
Rage laughs and shakes his head.
Rage: Look, I’ll give my thoughts on my match next week when I find out who I’m up against. As far as I’m concerned, I’m not concerned about any of mine and Sam’s potential opponents.
Pussy: Oh really? So, you’ve gotten over the possibility of having to face Despayre? That’s good news.
Rage suddenly frowns, having temporarily forgotten that just a short while ago Despayre and Crystal Millar advanced to the semi-finals. Spike Staggs and Lucy Seraphina were already in the semi-finals, and in just a little while ago, the last team will be decided.
Rage: I’ll...uh...worry about that if it comes down to it.
Despayre: IF?!
All eyes dart to Despayre, and he’s staring right at Rage.
Despayre: Does that mean that you think me and Crystal are gonna lose?!
Synn: Joshua, I don’t think that’s what he’s saying at all. Let’s talk about this later, because the next brackets haven’t been announced yet.
Kittie: Way to go, goat face.
Rage glares at Kittie.
Rage: Ya know, I think I preferred being called Peanut Head over goat face. Go back to that one.
Kittie shakes her head and Rage just lets out a growl before he turns his attention back to Despayre.
Rage: Despy, Synn’s right. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just taking this tournament one match at a time!
Despayre: Oh...Ok! So you think that you and Sam are gonna lose! That makes more sense!
Pussy Willow lets out a giggle as Rage closes his eyes and lets out another frustrated growl.
Rage: No, Despy...That’s not--
Synn: Perhaps we should just discuss this later like I suggested?
Pussy: Good idea. I mean, either team could be booked against Spike Staggs and Lucy Seraphina next week, or the winner of Alexis and Steve versus Connor and Melanie. It’s anyone’s guess, really.
Rage again rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem like he has anything else to say. An awkward silence falls between the group, until Pussy Willow, thinking it is safe to do so, asks the one thing she had been warned not to ask.
Pussy: So...I’m assuming you heard what J2H had to say in response to your words earlier? Any chance you have anything to say in response to that?
Kittie lets out an audible sigh and Synn even shakes his head, but they’re all focused on Rage. Rage slowly narrows his eyes, and for a moment it appears as though he’s about to fade off back into the same catatonic state as he was before. Instead, however, he takes a slow threatening step towards Pussy Willow.
Rage: Oh I heard him, alright. I was listening to every fucking word he said! You want my response?
Pussy Willow nods.
Pussy: If you don’t mind.
Rage: I’ll give you my fucking response when I want you to fucking have it!!! Get out of my face you fake breasted whore!!
Pussy Willow jumps back, fearing for her safety, but Synn and Kittie spring into action. Synn dashes in front of Rage quickly as does Kittie, but Pussy Willow just scurries off down the hall, trying to get away from Rage as fast as she possibly can. Despite his outburst, Rage stands back rather calm and breathing normally. Synn and Kittie remain confused as ever, and as the three of them remain quiet, Despayre has one last thing to say.
Despayre: Boy, Angel...at this rate, he’ll just have to give us his whole paycheck!
All eyes slowly fall on Despayre as the scene slowly fades away.
In the few days since Climax Control, Rage has been acting strange. Well...stranger than normal. He zones out from time to time, only to do what he did on Sunday and claim that he’s perfectly fine. Those close to him know better than to believe him, but they have no choice but to not push the issue further as it only continued to agitate Rage. And a seriously agitated Rage is no fun to deal with on a daily basis.
The big man is currently driving around Las Vegas, trying to clear his head. He’s speeding through the streets and highways in his Black Hennessey Venom GT. To him, there’s no better stress reliever than driving recklessly and without a care. Screw the risks. Fuck the police if they caught him speeding. He had to do this. He needed the adrenaline rush. He needed--
Rage: Fuck my life! Can’t they leave me alone for even ten fucking minutes?!
He lets out a frustrated growl as his phone starts to ring. He has it plugged into the handsfree docking station and he glances at the screen to see that Kittie is calling him. He debates just sending the call to voicemail, but knowing Kittie, she’d keep calling. Her nagging powers knew no bounds. After a couple of rings, he finally answers the call, putting Kittie on speaker.
Rage: Yeah! What do you want, Kittie?!
Kittie: What the fuck took you so long to answer?
He lets out a sigh as he weaves in and out of traffic on the highway. Several cars honk at him as he cuts them off, but he ignores them completely and just continues to drive without a care.
Rage: I picked up after the third ring, Kittie! Excuse me if I’m driving and don’t want feel like talking to anyone right now.
Kittie: Yeah and from the sound of it, you’re driving like a damn maniac again!
He lets out an annoyed growl as he swerves onto an exit, leaving the highway. Another car honks at him in the process.
Rage: Is there a reason you’re calling me, Kittie? Because I’m in no mood to have you lecturing me on how to drive my own car.
Kittie: Can you just get your ass back home so we can talk? You’ve been weird as hell since Sunday. I’ve been avoiding bringing it up all together, but I’m done avoiding this shit just to keep from pissing you off.
Rage: What are you talking about?
Kittie: I’m talking about the fact that something...or someone...sent you into a damn catatonic state for several fucking minutes! And I’m assuming that someone is J2H!
Several cars have to slam on their brakes and lay on their horns as Rage completely blows a red light, narrowly avoiding a serious accident. He just laughs it off as he speeds down the road, and Kittie can be heard letting out a sigh.
Rage: Kittie, would you just give that shit up already? I told you I’m fine.
Kittie: No, you’re not, Rage. I don’t know what is going on with you lately, but you need to snap out of it. J2H may be the Heavyweight Champion right now, but you need to stop focusing on him. You and Sam are going up against Spike and Lucy this week and if you want to make it to the finals, you need to focus on beating--
Rage: I fucking know that, Kittie! Quit telling me shit I already know!
Kittie lets out an annoyed laugh.
Kittie: Are you sure you know that? I know you’re trying to take this shit one match at a time, but if that is the case, you wouldn’t be egging James on Twitter every chance you get. Worry about Spike and Lucy and then whoever you might go against in the finals and then focus on J2H.
Rage narrows his eyes, but he keeps them on the road. For as dangerously as he is driving, he seems to know what he’s doing and knows how to avoid an accident when he needs to.
Rage: Easier said than done, Kittie. I need to worry about James when he’s running around talking the bullshit that he is. I’m so fucking close to getting my shot at him and the championship I can fucking taste it, but I’ve got two matches...two fucking teams...standing in my way!
Kittie: You dumbass. You really think that if you and Sam don’t win this tournament that you won’t get your shot? This shit happens all the time! They give title shots to douchebags who don’t even deserve them. Case in point, Casey Williams last week!
Rage takes in a deep breath and shakes his head.
Rage: I’m not fucking stupid, Kittie, but winning this tournament is a guaranteed shot. And there’s no fucking guarantee I’m even gonna win it anyway! Fuck!
Rage cuts off another driver, and Kittie hears the horns honking.
Kittie: Would you fucking calm down while you’re driving like an asshole! You’re gonna get into an accident and that’s not exactly what you need right now.
Rage: I couldn’t give a shit, Kittie! Ya know, this is all your fault! You signed me up for the tournament in the first place! I wouldn’t have to worry about facing Spike Staggs this week. Spike fucking Staggs, Kittie! I wouldn’t have to worry about possibly having to face Despy at the finals at Blaze of Glory. DESPY! You should have just left well enough alone, because if I wasn’t so fucking caught up in this damn tournament, I would have just challenged James fucking outright!
Kittie laughs.
Kittie: Seriously?! You’re blaming ME for your stupid decision in trying to do the fucking good thing and actually earn your shot? You could have challenged him anyway! Connor Murphy did! Don’t blame me for you being a complete dumbass and J2H making sound like an idiot. That’s on you, goat face. Not me.
Rage: Ya know what, fuck you, Kittie! I guess I’m finally tired of doing the good thing and trying to be a good guy.
Kittie: No one is making you do that shit, Rage. You’ve made those decisions all on your own. You’re the one who started having a change of attitude after you got back from Boston last Summer. But, hey, go ahead and tell Phil that you suddenly regret it all. That you regret being a fucking human being and saving him from that shit hole.
Rage pushes down on the gas and the car accelerates. He focuses his attention on the road and the traffic light he is currently approaching, which is red. No traffic is in front of him, so he thinks it’s safe.
Rage: I’m through with this conversation, Kittie. Don’t fucking call me back. I’ll see you in a little while.
Rage is about to hit end the call but he nearly jumps out of his skin as in the passenger side next to him, an apparition of his father appears to him.
Michael Sullivan: Slow down, son. This won’t end pretty if you don’t.
Rage: HOLY FUCK!
Rage only takes his eyes off the road momentarily, but it’s long enough to spell disaster.
Kittie: Rage? What the fuck happened?
Rage looks up and back to the road just as he is about to speed through a red light. He has to slam on his breaks though, as a car comes from the opposite direction, but it’s too late. He can’t avoid disaster this time and CRASH! the cars collide. Kittie hears the sound of metal hitting metal in the background as well as the constant sound of Rage’s car horn blaring.
Kittie: RAGE!!!
**FLASHBACK**
June 21st, 2015-Father’s Day
Forest Hills Cemetery
Boston Massachusetts
So much stands out about today. It’s the first day of Summer. It’s Father’s Day. And a gentle rain blankets the entire city. Despite the rain, people are still finding it in them to visit local cemeteries to pay respects to their beloved late husbands or fathers. Well, one person in particular isn’t visiting this cemetery to pay his respects to the man he only refers to as his sperm donor. And that person is Rage.
It had been a little over a month since Synn had given him an envelope holding information on the whereabouts of the child psychiatrist who treated him from the time he was ten years old until he was transferred to an adult facility upon his eighteenth birthday. Dr. Acklund had slipped under the radar for quite some time, and until recently, Rage had no reason to try and find him. Hell, he didn’t even know if the man was still alive.
But he is. And that is what has brought Rage back to Boston.
The grass is much greener over his father’s grave. It had only been eight months since his passing, so his grave is still new compared to the others surrounding it. As is the beautiful headstone marking the grave. Rage stands over the grave, eyes locked on the headstone, and he can’t help but shake his head and laugh as he reads the engraving that his mother and sister had no doubt chosen for it.
MICHAEL SULLIVAN
1951-2014
DEVOTED HUSBAND
LOVING FATHER
FOREVER MISSED
Rage: You gotta be shitting me? I’ve never seen a more inappropriate description in my life. You? A loving father? Fuck that.
He stares down at the grave, as if he’s speaking to his...sperm donor. He has his hands in his pockets, and even though it’s raining, he has chosen not to shield himself with an umbrella. He doesn’t care, though, as he’s focusing all his attention to the headstone before him.
Rage: I’m glad you’re dead, old man. You hear me? I’m fucking glad that you’re rotting six feet under, but I hope you’re burning in hell.
He crouches down, getting eye level with the headstone and he stares at his father’s name.
Rage: Ya know, I thought when I got Phil out of this place that I’d never have a reason to come back, much less this damn soon. I told myself I’d find out the truth that you kept from us for the past twenty five years, but that didn’t mean I ever wanted to come back. When I think of Boston, I think of the hell I went through. You ruined my life, old man. You ruined Phil’s.
He runs his hand along the headstone, and clenches it into a fist. He’s tempted to punch the thing with all of his strength, but he holds himself back, if only for the moment.
Rage: If I had it my way, I would have been the one to kill you, you son of a bitch. You got off easy. You shouldn’t have died of natural causes. You should have died a slow and painful death. And I should have gotten the fucking truth from you instead of having to do all the fucking dirty work in uncovering all your lies!
He stands back up, once again looking down at the headstone. His eyes are narrowed and filled with pure hatred. Even though his father is dead, everything is still so messed up in his mind. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, that he doesn’t notice another car pull up right behind his rental.
Rage: I’ve got the truth right within my grasp, asshole. I know where that son of a bitch doctor is, and I’m about to find him. I wanted Phil to come with me, but he wants nothing more to do with Boston. You’re the reason he tried to take his own life, asshole. You know that? Had I not gotten him out of here, he’d probably still be stuck in that fucking hospital, or six feet under right next to you. I saved my brother. Which is more than you can say.
He goes quiet again, collecting his thoughts. A blonde woman, not much older than he, steps out of her car and starts heading right towards him. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers and as she gets closer, she turns out to be Rage and Phillip’s older sister, Ashley. She stops several feet away from Rage, surprised to see him standing there.
Ashley: Jake? Wh-what are you doing here?
Rage lifts his head and turns around. He looks at his sister for the first time in seven months, but he is by no means happy to see her. She looks around him, as if expecting to see someone else.
Ashley: Is Phillip with you?
He shakes his head.
Rage: For the last fucking time, quit calling me Jake. And no, Phil is not here.
Ashley: Why? Is...is he okay? He didn’t try to--
Rage rolls his eyes and laughs.
Rage: No, he didn’t try to fucking off himself again. I got him away from the bullshit that led to that. He’s fine. Not that it’s any of your business anymore. And not that you give a fuck about him.
Ashley lets out a saddened sigh. She takes the few steps towards Rage, and their father’s grave, and places the bouquet of flowers on the top of the headstone, looking down at her father’s name. A tear trickles down her cheek.
Ashley: I don’t expect you to believe me, but I DO care, Jake. And I’m not going to stop calling you that, because it’s the only name I know you as. You’re my brother, and so is Phillip. You might not have been in our lives for the past twenty years, but I love you regardless.
Rage laughs again.
Rage: You’re a terrible liar, you know that? How can you say you love either of us knowing what this asshole…
He points to the headstone.
Rage: ...put me and Phil through?!
Ashley closes her eyes and slowly shakes her head. Her eyes well up with tears and when she opens them and looks back to Rage, she looks completely lost.
Ashley: I was as much a victim as you two were, Jake. I know Dad put Phillip through hell, and I feel guilty that I wasn’t there, but not being around...that was my way of coping! After you...our whole family fell apart!
Rage: You know something, don’t you? You know more about what happened than you’re telling.
She shakes her head.
Ashley: I don’t know anymore about what happened than you do, Jake. We thought you died. You were told we were dead, which was clearly a lie. I don’t know anything else.
Rage: How the fuck did you think I died?! Didn’t you guys have a funeral or some shit? Wouldn’t there have been a damn body?! None of this is making sense!
Rage brings both hands up to his head and Ashley just shakes her head.
Ashley: I don’t think you really want the answers you’re searching for, Jake. You...you need to just move on. It’s all in the past. I can’t dwell on it anymore because it’s all too painful, Jake. Dad is gone. He’s not coming back. Learning the truth isn’t going to change anything.
Rage: Just tell me what you fucking know! I don’t give a shit that it won’t change anything. Don’t you get it, Ashley?! I HAVE to know what the fuck happened and why!
Ashley shakes her head again.
Ashley: I...I’m sorry. I don’t know anymore than you do, Jake.
She steps past him, preparing to leave. As Rage draws in a deep breath and looks back down at the headstone, Ashley turns back to him one last time.
Ashley: Please tell Phillip that I love him. And that I’m truly sorry for everything.
Rage: Not gonna happen.
She starts sobbing as she turns and rushes back to her car. A few moments later the engine roars to life and she drives off and out of the cemetery. Once she’s gone, Rage stands there, completely frozen where he stands. His hands are clenched at his sides and he’s just staring at the headstone. He’s almost catatonic and what seems like minutes pass before he finally makes any movement at all, but the movement he makes is not a good one. He lets out a guttoral growl before he pulls his leg back and then brings it forward and kicks the headstone with everything bit of strength he has. He kicks it with so much force that it cracks and falls apart, but he doesn’t care. He stares down at what he’s done with a smirk on his face.
Rage: Burn in hell, asshole.
A few people that were at other graves not far away turn and stare at what he did with horrified looks on their faces. They stare as he heads back to his rental car and then speeds off a minute later. He doesn’t even look in his rearview mirror and makes a vow in his mind to never return to this cemetery.
Back To The Present Day…
Emergency vehicles complete surround the scene. Police cars. Ambulances. Even a fire truck. The intersection is completely blocked as the two mangled cars are still right where they had landed after the collision, and it isn’t a pretty scene, either.
The front end of Rage’s Black Hennessey Venom GT is a mess. When he ran the red light, he had clipped the back end of a white Cadillac Escalade, but it’s clear that Rage’s vehicle had taken the brunt of the collision and sustained the most damage. Inside the vehicle, the airbag had deployed, but Rage was no longer in the driver’s seat and the door had been bent open.
Just feet away from the accident, Phillip’s Silver Chevy Camaro pulls up. Moments later, both doors open and Phillip and Kittie quickly dart out of the car. Their attention is drawn to the mangled mess that is Rage’s car, and seeing the condition that it’s in, they’re left wondering how Rage could even survive such an accident. Or if he even did.
A police officer is standing off the side of the road, speaking to a person that Phillip and Kittie presume to be the other driver, but they don’t see Rage anywhere, and Kittie only grows more concerned. As does Phillip.
Kittie: This isn’t good, Phil. I...I think I just heard Rage fucking die on the phone!
Phil: Don’t think that, Kittie.
Kittie: Look at his car, Phil! It’s a fucking mess! God damn it! I told him not to fucking drive like--
Phil suddenly grabs Kittie’s shoulder and points towards one of the ambulances.
Phil: Look! He’s over there!
Kittie’s eyes dart over to one of the two ambulances. The back doors are open and Rage is seen sitting on a gurney just inside with a paramedic checking on him. A trail of blood is seen trickling down his face, but he’s conscious, and Kittie and Rage are able to breathe a sigh of relief. They rush over towards the ambulance, but a police officer tries to stop them.
Officer: I’m sorry but you can’t--
Kittie swats the officer’s hand away, and darts past him but Phillip luckily speaks up and saves her from any trouble.
Phil: That’s my brother and her boyfriend in there.
The officer steps aside, allowing Phillip and Kittie to approach the ambulance. The paramedic checking on Rage steps out of the back and away from the ambulance for a moment and Rage’s attention darts to his brother and Kittie. Kittie’s response is not what he was expecting, though.
Kittie: What the FUCK were you thinking?!
Rage: Gee, Kittie, it’s nice to see you too. I’m fine, by the way. Not dead or anything...obviously.
Phillip just shakes his head and if Rage weren’t already injured, Kittie would have attacked him after that comment.
Phil: From the looks of your car, bro, you’re lucky you survived that. What the hell happened?
Rage just shrugs it off as if it what happened were nothing.
Rage: Does it matter? I fucked up, and that’s all you need to know.
Kittie: Yeah, you did! I heard the damn crash, asshole! I thought you were dead!
Rage laughs, but Kittie and Phillip don’t find any of this amusing.
Rage: Never pegged you as being so dramatic, Kittie.
Kittie: Well, excuse me hearing someone I care about almost die over the phone gets to me. This isn’t funny, asshole! Not to mention, you could be in some deep shit because YOU caused it!
Phil: What did the paramedic say?
Rage brings his hand up to his head. A piece of gauze, now soaked in blood, is covering the wound on his head.
Rage: Gonna need a couple stitches, and I probably have a minor concussion. Nothing I can’t handle.
Phil: Anybody in the other car hurt?
Rage shakes his head.
Rage: Not that I know of. Guess it’s only fair that I caused the accident and I walk away on the short end of the stick.
Kittie: This is just what we need going into your match on Sunday. You fucking hurt. Not to mention, when Gabriel finds out that you totaled the car that he bought you, he’s gonna fucking kill you himself!
Rage holds his hands up, shaking his head.
Rage: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Gabriel is NOT going to find out about this. Do you understand me?
Kittie’s jaw drops open and she and Phillip look at one another, before they look back to Rage.
Kittie: You’re shitting me, right? How the hell do you plan on keeping this from him?! He’s gonna ask questions when he sees you with a new car!
Phil: Kittie’s right, Rage. But, I’d hope he wouldn’t be as upset as she thinks. Shit happens.
Rage laughs and shakes his head.
Rage: You realize how much that car cost? Gabriel isn’t going to accept the fact that shit happens. I was driving the think like a maniac, and if he finds out I wrecked the damn thing, I’ll never hear the end of it. I’ll think of an explanation, but I’m NOT telling him that I wrecked the damn car and that’s final!
Kittie: Yeah, and he’ll know you’re lying to him when he sees that gash on your bald head! This will never work and you know it.
Rage lets out a sigh, but he doesn’t argue further. He remembers the moments leading up to the crash, though, and knows he has to talk to Phillip about it.
Rage: Kittie, can I talk to Phil alone for a second?
Kittie: Why?
Rage frowns.
Rgae: What does it fucking matter? Just give us a few minutes, alright?! Damn!
Kittie shakes her head and lets out a sigh. Before she walks away, she takes her cell phone out of her pocket.
Rage: Don’t you dare call Synn either!
Kittie ignores him as she walks away and Phil just stares at his brother.
Phil: Little late for that. She called him before we left.
Rage growls and shakes his head. Phil takes a step closer to the ambulance.
Phil: What’s going on, bro? What do you need to talk to me about?
Rage: I needed to tell you about what happened just before the accident. I wanted you to be the first to know before anyone else.
Phillip looks more confused than ever. He folds his arms across his chest as he leans against the back of the ambulance.
Phil: You lost me, Rage. Why would you need to tell me--
Rage: Our father appeared to me, Phil…
Phillip’s eyes widen for a moment and he leans in closer, thinking he hadn’t heard Rage right.
Phil: I’m sorry. What?
Rage: Right before the crash. He just...appeared outta nowhere in the damn passenger seat! Freaked the hell out of me and that’s part of the reason why I slammed into that fucking Cadillac.
Phillip runs his hand through his hair, finding what Rage just told him very hard to believe.
Phil: Oookay...I’m not exactly sure what to say to that.
Rage: Yeah, neither do I. I mean, he just appears next to me as I’m speeding down the road getting ready to hang up on Kittie and he fucking speaks to me.
Phil: What? What did he say?
Rage takes in a deep breath.
Rage: He...told me to slow down. Said that if I didn’t, it wouldn’t end well.
Phillip raises an eyebrow.
Phil: Uhhh…
Rage: I know it sounds crazy, Phil. Believe me, I know. I just...I don’t know why the fuck it happened.
Phil: I know why it happened.
Rage stares at his brother.
Phil: Because you won’t let everything that happened go. You refuse to move on, and instead keep that shit bottled up and festering over it all. Get over it, Rage. I have. And you should, too. Because if you don’t? It’s gonna either make you crazy, or it’ll kill you. And it damn near did today.
Rage narrows his eyes and processes everything his brother was telling him. Phillip had a point. He knew it, but he wasn’t about to admit it. No matter what Phillip said, he couldn’t let it go. Just as Rage is about to respond, Kittie walks up next to Phillip, but her attention is solely on Rage.
Kittie: So after talking to the police officer, you’re in some deep shit Rage. But, don’t worry. I just got off the phone with Synn and he’s going to contact his lawyer and see if there’s any way out of this shit for you.
Rage: That’s just...great.
Rage doesn’t look too thrilled, but at the same time, neither does Kittie.
Kittie: Yeah, it is. You better thank him if he’s able to pull a few favors and get you out of this mess, because you really fucked up! You’re so damn worried about winning this Blast From The Past tournament, but now you don’t even realize you probably fucked that up, too! You’re walking in there with a gash on your head and a possible concussion and trust me when I say that Spike will take full advantage of that shit. I hope you’re happy, asshole.
Kittie then turns and storms off without another word. Phillip just lets out a sigh before he turns his attention back to Rage, and the paramedic returns to the ambulance.
Phil: I, uh, guess we’ll catch up with you at the hospital.
Rage: Yeah...sure thing, Phil.
Phil taps the side of the ambulance before he turns and follows behind Kittie back to his car. The paramedic steps up into the back of the ambulance, closing the doors behind him. Moments later, the siren is turned on, and the ambulance pulls away and heads towards the hospital. As the ambulance drives away from the scene, Rage stares out of the back window at what is left of his car and he just shakes his head, watching as it’s loaded onto the back of a flatbed tow truck.
If this week has been any indication of how things are going to go at Climax Control this weekend, it’s not a good fucking sign. Everything was relatively quiet and laid back until I went and made a big fucking mistake, and now I have to find a way to keep that shit hidden! Oh, and on top of that, I’ve had to watch J2H run his mouth on Twitter all week, and the little bastard is highly underestimating just what I’m capable of, and what I’ll do.
I wasn’t interested in this tournament at first. I had no desire to team with any one of those Bombshells that signed up. Including Sam at first. But shit changes, and it changes fast, because not only did my partner win the Bombshell Championship at My Bloody Valentine, but J2H actually became the World Heavyweight Champion. And that alone was something I never fucking thought I’d see happen.
After My Bloody Valentine, I quickly realized that this shit wasn’t just about me. All those other Bombshells on the roster were fighting for a chance at Sam’s title...at my partner’s title. She had to do her part to make sure it stays in her possession, and I had to do my part, too. If I had been stuck with any other Bombshell other than Sam Marlowe? I probably would have said fuck it and not given a shit. But since she first stepped into SCW, this chick has been fighting to make a name for herself. And she has. In a way, she’s kinda been doing what J2H did for as long as he did, only a million times less fucking annoying.
Once the tournament started, the pressure really fucking kicked in. I knew what the prize would be for winning this tournament, and fuck if I was going to let that shit get away from me. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was going to let some other less deserving asshole(not you Despy!) get what I wanted and win that title shot against J2H, or whoever should hold the belt after Blaze of Glory V. I really hope it’s J2H, because WHEN I win this tournament, it’s going to feel that much sweeter when I do what he thinks I can’t and beat the fuck out of him and take his title. It’s gonna happen. It’s only a matter of time.
But there’s another obstacle this week. A really big fucking obstacle, but not size wise.
No, this obstacles name is Spike Staggs. Legendary mother fucker who made a surprise return in week one of this tournament. I knew there were a couple of mystery guys that entered their names into this thing, but did I think that Spike was one of them? Fuck no! The guy retired a couple of years ago! He’s inducted into the Hall Of Fame! What fucking reason does he have to come back? I’ll get back to that in just a second because there happens to be another part of this equation, and that’s Spike’s partner. Lucy Seraphina.
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy...I gotta be honest with you. I don’t know much of anything about you, because you’re just not interesting enough to fucking pay attention to. I did my homework, though, and I know you’re a former Bombshell Internet Champion. I know ya lost that title to Alexis Edwards, but what have you done since? A whole lot of nothing, right? Well, ya went for the Bombshell Tag Titles with your partner, Melanie, but you two just couldn’t get the job done against Team Hero. Tough luck, bitch. But, you’re luck isn’t about to change with this one. And neither is Mel’s because her and Connor just so happen to be going against Despaye and Crystal Millar. You both drew the short end of this stick this week, didn’t you?
Now, you may have gotten a little luckier with drawing Spike Staggs as your partner, and sure you two have done well so far, but that’s all about to change because I think Spikey boy is running out of steam pretty damn quick. Sorry to burst your bubble, Lucy, but you and Spike aren’t gonna win this tournament this year.
Spike, I gotta say when I saw that you were one of the mystery guys making a return this year I sat back and I asked myself...why? Why the fuck is Spike coming out of retirement after two years and entering the Blast From the Past tournament? What the fuck are you doing, Spike? You had a good run with the title a few years ago. You were the NeWA World Champion on top of it. You’ve won countless year end awards and you were the very FIRST inductee into the Hall of Fame in 2014. What are you trying to prove, Spike?
So many questions, Spike, but so little answers. The more I started thinking about it, the more I thought, maybe you just had some sick desire to wrestle your kid and actually beat him, like you did. Or maybe you really wanted him to beat you. I don’t fucking know, but I can’t keep trying to wrap my head around it, because it’s all too fucking maddening.
The last time we faced each other was for the title, Spike. You remember that? Because I do. Blaze of Glory 2013. Spike Staggs versus Rage. NXT leader versus Seven Deadly Sins member. I couldn’t get the job done, though, and in the end, you walked away still the champion. You beat me, and I haven’t been able to forget about it. Make no mistake about it, Spike….the same shit ain’t gonna happen this time.
The title may not be on the line, but something just as meaningful is. We’re both this close to making it to the finals and winning that title shot, but the question is...who wants it more? Do you REALLY think you want it more, Spike? Do you REALLY think that your hunger for the World Heavyweight Championship is greater than mine?
Because I don’t.
We’ve both held the title just once, Spike. I get that. But I didn’t do everything I wanted to do with that title reign. I wasted that fucking title rain and it’s all but forgotten right now. When people hear the name Spike Staggs, they know things. They know what you’ve done and how fucking great you really are. Shit, I really can’t say one disrespectful thing about you, no matter how hard I try! But, you see, I’ve still got a lot to prove in this place and I’m not letting this tournament slip away from me. I’m not letting myself get knocked out of the tournament by someone who has accomplished as much as you.
This week is a huge fucking step in the right direction for me. Knocking out Spike Staggs would put my name on everyone’s radar. More importantly, it will put my name on J2H’s radar, which is ultimately what I’m trying to do. He doesn’t think I can do it, Spike, but I’m going to prove him wrong and it all begins with you this week.
You’ve got a wife and kids to think about, Spike. You’ve got a family at home that needs ya there to support them. Do you really want to try and stop me from winning this tournament? Because if you do, I’m gonna have to do whatever...and I mean whatever it takes to keep you from doing just that. I’ll make sure you CAN’T make another surprise return. Don’t believe me? Just test my limits, Spike.
I know I have a challenge ahead of me. I’m not denying that, but...I’ve got a feeling in my gut, and you want to know what that feeling is?
Rage and Sam Marlowe will be your Blast From The Past 2016 winners.
The Sin of Wrath is hungry for the SCW World Heavyweight Championship and he’s not stopping until that hunger is satiated.
See you Sunday, Spike!
