Post by somethingwicked on Jun 30, 2020 12:26:59 GMT -5
We fade in to a large sports complex in what seems to be the downtown area of some major city. Driving ranges, batting cages, go-carts and spread out over a lot the size of a city block. Leaning against a black Cadillac Escalade, Sarah Wolf, wrestling manager and promoter, smokes a cigarette as her brother, Wrestling legend Kal X Wolf stands near, drinking a bottle of water. They look back and forth, each anxiously awaiting someone. By their faces and body language alone, we can tell one can’t wait for the person to arrive, and the other is sure they aren’t coming. Sarah flicks her cigarette and it bounces off the leg of some chad passing by. He puts his arms out to say something but ‘reads the room’ well for the first time, and steps away quickly. Sarah and Kal chuckle and each look at their watches at the same time. His, a Patek Philippe Grand Complication, worth a little over 100k, and here, a Patek Philippe by Tiffany and Co worth just a tiny bit less. But for all the money spent on such, neither have the answer to the question they’re looking for. But the phones in their pockets, do.
Each pulling their phone out, they see that they’ve both received a text message from the man they’re here to meet. The message makes both look up, and see him standing at the top of the Driving range tower, looking down on him. They both step forward and make their way toward him.
The crack of his club against the ball is loud and sharp, and the ball vanishes as quickly as it does brutally. Placing the club down, Xavier Wolf looks up at his brother and sister, now standing in front of him. He whistles and a very large man, about the same size as Kal, steps up. His face covered by a white leather mask, and decked out in a full body suit, he stands behind Xavier, imposing.
“Who’s the gimp?” Asks Sarah, playfully smiling.
“Hug me first, then let’s ask questions.”
The two embrace, and Kal watches as Xavier kisses her on the cheek. He is reminded of his childhood. Before his father had lost his mind, this was how they said hello to him. It was a sign of respect, yes. But also love, and adoration. Kal had told himself he was the Alpha in this family for years. But this reminded him that he wasn’t the only one.
“Now. This guy, I’ve yet to name. Could he be 3? Could he be E 2.0? Maybe Bralis? Dunno. Point is, he’s here to make sure if anyone tries anything, they get something to go home with. Of course, Aldo is also here. As are a few of my other friends. So fucking souvenirs for all. Participation’s trophies!”
“X..” Kal said, interrupting. “I just wa-“
“Now hold on. Before you say anything else.”
Xavier stepped up, looking at his brother up and down. And with a sneer that vanished behind a smile, he embraces him, and gives him a kiss on the cheek as well.
“Good to see you, big.”
Kalvin, who has cried at the birth of his kids, and at the loss of friends, found himself in the unfamiliar territory of almost crying for something other than life or death.
“Well. That kind of solidified why we’re here.” Kal says, his massive arms crossed in front of his equally massive chest.
“You don’t get hugged at home?” X says, taking a sip of water.
“X. I want you to come home. Enough with this. It’s too far. It’s too long. I miss you. The kids miss you. My wife misses you. Fuck man even the help missed you.”
We flash over to a view of two elderly maids folding a pile of clothes. The woman on the right picks up a pair of lace panties with what seems to be a bite missing from them. She looks to the women to the right of her and says “I miss sex.” As Kal passes by, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I’m touched. Seriously I’ve got tingles.” X says, unimpressed by any of it.
“We voted. We all want you back.” Kal doesn’t make a face, nor change his stance. He is as still as his words are true.
“Save for two.” Sarah adds.
“Color me shocked. Color me uninterested.”
“Riv…” Sarah says, stepping up to him. The man behind X steps up and Sarah glares at him, as if to silently wish he would. X backs him down with a pat to the chest. “He’s serious. He...he needs to say it himself.”
She looks to her older brother, who reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ticket. It is old and faded and it is autographed by Kal himself. He shows it to Xavier, and Xavier grows pale. It’s a memory he was not prepared to have flash back to him.
“Yeah. You remember. I had just fought at this bingo hall sized hell hole. As I left, you came up. You told me how big a fan you were. How you wanted to be a wrestler too. How your parents didn’t like it. How you had a room full of my posters. You were too old for this kinda shit to come out of your mouth. I thought you were retarded.”
“The other one, maybe.” X adds with glee.
“When you asked for an autograph, and told me your name, I almost shat. What was the chances, the guy who stole my mom away had a son. And he named him after my grandfather. And son of a bitch, the kid looked just like my dad.”
“This going somewhere?”
“You told me I was your hero. You remember that? I’ve not been very heroic lately. And I’m sorry. After I got sick...I changed. and not always for the good. I’m done sidelining myself from this family, kid. I’m not waiting for you guys to work this shit out on your own. I don’t care what you do, or he does, in regards to this business. But I worked my ass off to keep this family together, and I’m not letting some bullshit destroy it. I’m bringing you home.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. If you’ll let me.”
“Oh yes. Of course. Tell me. What’s the stip? I give up on my endeavors? Cut ties with styles? Let Ani off the leash? What?”
“None.”
“None?”
“Keep Ani forever. Let Styles live with you. I don’t care. Just come home. Just be where we are.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you. I miss your humor, I miss your stories, I miss the way we fought over the better rocky movie..” Kal takes a step forward. “I miss my brother. Be mad at me. Hate me. But do it where I can see ya.”
Kal kisses his brother on the cheek, and walks away. Sarah leans in and whispers to the young Wolf.
“He went to bat for you.” She says as she drops a USB into his hand. “But see for yourself.”
Sarah kisses her brother, and he kisses her back. As she catches up with Kal, she pats him on the bacl, for in this moment, regardless of how it ends, she is proud of her brother. Kal stops, placing his hands on his hips.
“Did I say enough? Did I make it clear?”
“You said more than anyone else. I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of you. I know this emotional shit is hard for you. But you’ve done so well with your kids, and now...seriously.”
A chime interupts the moment, and Kal pulls his phone from his back pocket. He looks down at the screen and shows Sarah what he’s found. A text from Xavier W.
“What’s it say?”
“4, 1, 3, 2, 5.”
“He counts 5?”
“It’s part two to 4!! It’s 4,5,1,3,2.”
We flash back to Xavier, who places a ball on the tee, and with every ounce of strength in his body, creams the ball into the distance. If the ball was made of lesser stuff, it would be in two pieces. Watching it sail through the air, he pulls his phone out and hits one of his 3 favorited numbers. The call is picked up immediately.
“Wtf happened? Was it a trap? Who came? Are they still there? Did a fight break out?”
“Why, you gonna buy this, too? Calm the fuck down.”
“Yo. What happened?”
“Something I didn’t expect. I’ll get back to you on it. I just know how much of a worried bitch to you are.”
“Fuck you, cunt. You know what’s riding on this?”
“I do. And you know it’s gonna come out exactly how I want. So go get wet and calm down.”
Xavier ended the call, threw his phone to the monster behind him. He takes a few more wacks at a few more balls and before long, Nez, Spitz, and Aldo Diamond, all show up, each dressed like a regular person, despite none of them being even close.
“So? They really were alone?” X asks, looking at each of their faces, a glint of hope in his eye.
“Totally. They even drove here.” Nez says, staring at the monster over X’s shoulder.
“Yeah, boss. Seems the up and up shit was real.” Spitz says, scratching at his stubbled chin.
“Ok, so yeah, they weren’t messing. But do we really have time for this? You’re in a fight with three people that own this game in mad ways, grin. You really think this is the time for this shit? I mean yeah, two of them are family.”
“No. All three of them are. Roger might as well be the new and improved Damon.” X snaps his head to the monster behind him, who lets out a growl. “Calm down, he’s not here.” The other three look to the monster, and then back at Xavier, who is smiling widely. “He’s not a fan of the D name. For good reason. Because he’s my insurance policy against him. Ain’t that right...I really gotta name you.”
“Where do you guys even get these people?”
“Mental institutions, Mostly.”
“...jesus.” Nez says, shocked but also disappointed.
“So they can shove gloves into boxes for min wage but I pay them better to fuck people up and I’m the monster? Be serious.They’ve been letting mentally handicap people fight in this game forever. This business would be me, and like two others if they didn’t.”
“Aldo does have a point, boss.”
“Ok, shut up. I don’t pay a single fucking one of you to be my reminder about this or that. You’re all very aware of what your job is, and let me make it crystal fucking clear what your job isn’t. Your job is not to remind me that I’m facing my brother, who has lit the world on fire in every fed he’s ever worked for. I am aware of that. I am also aware that he’s been on a streak as of late, and not a good one. He’s untethered, and while it may make him dangerous, it also makes him predictable. He isn’t going out there with a game plan, he’s going out there to fucking bite. And you know what you do with a dog that wants to bite? You muzzle that fuck. So I’m gonna grab him by the snout and remind him that while he was born first, I was born better.”
“Your job is also not to tell me that Roger Wright is this or that. Because Roger Wright has made it very clear that Roger Wright’s worst enemy is actually Roger Wright. He tried to be the fucking hero and wound up costing himself more than he thought he could lose. And for what? For this business? This business that will forget him the second after he leaves? OPW doesn’t need Roger Wright as much as Roger Wright needs OPW. If any dude ever had a savior complex, they owe Roger an apology for encroaching on his gimmick. This business thrives on the idea that bad men make shit happen, while good men whine that they want to fix it. You know what kinda world we’d live in if things were done the Wright way? A Neutered one. One where every fight would be preambled with “dont worry, if you don’t like it, ol’ big head mc’goodguy is gonna march down and make it better for you.” This business NEEDS people like Johnny in charge. People who are gonna light the fire under the white hats, while letting the black hats have some fun. Because the white hats, they need something to stand against. And the black hats, the fun they have is fun to watch, and even more fun to be mad about. A Stylez tide lifts all boats. A Wright tide leaves us in a fucking puddle.”
“I feel like I’m the fucking bad guy from Fifth Element. Peace does not make for good tv. HBO is not gonna show us having a wonderful tea party. They want a war. And if you’re gonna have a war, you need something worth going to war for. And chaos, and anarchy, and me doing whatever the fuck I want...That’s a girl worth dying for, if you get my fucking drift.”
“I realize right now that I am in fact monologuing. And while I make fun of everyone else for doing it, let me make it crystal clear the difference. What I am saying, everyone needs to hear. To recognize not as opinion, but as fact. Wright, with his head in his hands over fucking over his own girlfriend, which is not the way she likes to be fucked by the way. Vincent pissed that I keep getting over on him, despite the fact that he’s the ‘better brother.’ And then we have her. The she who should not be named. My loving sister in law. Voodoo. Getting back into the ring the way old prostitutes get back on the corner after being retired. They have no other choice. Not that she needs the money. She was rich before we met her. She has no other choice because her protege, is now my puppet. And trust me when I tell you, she can take a whole hand and more, so that’s as good a metaphor as they get.”
“She has watched as her husband, the so-called Phreeq Mega, has tried and tried again, only to fail at knocking me down a peg. She has watched as time and time again, The Syndicate has done what it wants, and gotten what it wants, despite the white hats best efforts. This is her only course of action. The deck is stacked, the game is rigged, and the payouts for winning are all negative numbers. There are no other good guys coming. There are no backups to call, no mystery wrestlers to bring forward. You made the biggest mistake of your lives. They didn’t just start a war they can’t win. They started a war they can’t even fight.”
“I don’t know. The redhead is pretty tough.”
“Let me tell you something, Nezbian. There are women just as tough, and all of them are on my side.”
Xavier places a new ball on the tee, and with a single swing catapults it into the distance. We follow the ball, and watch as it head over the netting and sails out into the open water, cracking a window on a small boat anchored out in the harbor. Xavier and crew celebrate, as the large masked man behind them looks on. We then fade away into the darkness of the void from which we came.
Each pulling their phone out, they see that they’ve both received a text message from the man they’re here to meet. The message makes both look up, and see him standing at the top of the Driving range tower, looking down on him. They both step forward and make their way toward him.
The crack of his club against the ball is loud and sharp, and the ball vanishes as quickly as it does brutally. Placing the club down, Xavier Wolf looks up at his brother and sister, now standing in front of him. He whistles and a very large man, about the same size as Kal, steps up. His face covered by a white leather mask, and decked out in a full body suit, he stands behind Xavier, imposing.
“Who’s the gimp?” Asks Sarah, playfully smiling.
“Hug me first, then let’s ask questions.”
The two embrace, and Kal watches as Xavier kisses her on the cheek. He is reminded of his childhood. Before his father had lost his mind, this was how they said hello to him. It was a sign of respect, yes. But also love, and adoration. Kal had told himself he was the Alpha in this family for years. But this reminded him that he wasn’t the only one.
“Now. This guy, I’ve yet to name. Could he be 3? Could he be E 2.0? Maybe Bralis? Dunno. Point is, he’s here to make sure if anyone tries anything, they get something to go home with. Of course, Aldo is also here. As are a few of my other friends. So fucking souvenirs for all. Participation’s trophies!”
“X..” Kal said, interrupting. “I just wa-“
“Now hold on. Before you say anything else.”
Xavier stepped up, looking at his brother up and down. And with a sneer that vanished behind a smile, he embraces him, and gives him a kiss on the cheek as well.
“Good to see you, big.”
Kalvin, who has cried at the birth of his kids, and at the loss of friends, found himself in the unfamiliar territory of almost crying for something other than life or death.
“Well. That kind of solidified why we’re here.” Kal says, his massive arms crossed in front of his equally massive chest.
“You don’t get hugged at home?” X says, taking a sip of water.
“X. I want you to come home. Enough with this. It’s too far. It’s too long. I miss you. The kids miss you. My wife misses you. Fuck man even the help missed you.”
We flash over to a view of two elderly maids folding a pile of clothes. The woman on the right picks up a pair of lace panties with what seems to be a bite missing from them. She looks to the women to the right of her and says “I miss sex.” As Kal passes by, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I’m touched. Seriously I’ve got tingles.” X says, unimpressed by any of it.
“We voted. We all want you back.” Kal doesn’t make a face, nor change his stance. He is as still as his words are true.
“Save for two.” Sarah adds.
“Color me shocked. Color me uninterested.”
“Riv…” Sarah says, stepping up to him. The man behind X steps up and Sarah glares at him, as if to silently wish he would. X backs him down with a pat to the chest. “He’s serious. He...he needs to say it himself.”
She looks to her older brother, who reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ticket. It is old and faded and it is autographed by Kal himself. He shows it to Xavier, and Xavier grows pale. It’s a memory he was not prepared to have flash back to him.
“Yeah. You remember. I had just fought at this bingo hall sized hell hole. As I left, you came up. You told me how big a fan you were. How you wanted to be a wrestler too. How your parents didn’t like it. How you had a room full of my posters. You were too old for this kinda shit to come out of your mouth. I thought you were retarded.”
“The other one, maybe.” X adds with glee.
“When you asked for an autograph, and told me your name, I almost shat. What was the chances, the guy who stole my mom away had a son. And he named him after my grandfather. And son of a bitch, the kid looked just like my dad.”
“This going somewhere?”
“You told me I was your hero. You remember that? I’ve not been very heroic lately. And I’m sorry. After I got sick...I changed. and not always for the good. I’m done sidelining myself from this family, kid. I’m not waiting for you guys to work this shit out on your own. I don’t care what you do, or he does, in regards to this business. But I worked my ass off to keep this family together, and I’m not letting some bullshit destroy it. I’m bringing you home.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. If you’ll let me.”
“Oh yes. Of course. Tell me. What’s the stip? I give up on my endeavors? Cut ties with styles? Let Ani off the leash? What?”
“None.”
“None?”
“Keep Ani forever. Let Styles live with you. I don’t care. Just come home. Just be where we are.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you. I miss your humor, I miss your stories, I miss the way we fought over the better rocky movie..” Kal takes a step forward. “I miss my brother. Be mad at me. Hate me. But do it where I can see ya.”
Kal kisses his brother on the cheek, and walks away. Sarah leans in and whispers to the young Wolf.
“He went to bat for you.” She says as she drops a USB into his hand. “But see for yourself.”
Sarah kisses her brother, and he kisses her back. As she catches up with Kal, she pats him on the bacl, for in this moment, regardless of how it ends, she is proud of her brother. Kal stops, placing his hands on his hips.
“Did I say enough? Did I make it clear?”
“You said more than anyone else. I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of you. I know this emotional shit is hard for you. But you’ve done so well with your kids, and now...seriously.”
A chime interupts the moment, and Kal pulls his phone from his back pocket. He looks down at the screen and shows Sarah what he’s found. A text from Xavier W.
“What’s it say?”
“4, 1, 3, 2, 5.”
“He counts 5?”
“It’s part two to 4!! It’s 4,5,1,3,2.”
We flash back to Xavier, who places a ball on the tee, and with every ounce of strength in his body, creams the ball into the distance. If the ball was made of lesser stuff, it would be in two pieces. Watching it sail through the air, he pulls his phone out and hits one of his 3 favorited numbers. The call is picked up immediately.
“Wtf happened? Was it a trap? Who came? Are they still there? Did a fight break out?”
“Why, you gonna buy this, too? Calm the fuck down.”
“Yo. What happened?”
“Something I didn’t expect. I’ll get back to you on it. I just know how much of a worried bitch to you are.”
“Fuck you, cunt. You know what’s riding on this?”
“I do. And you know it’s gonna come out exactly how I want. So go get wet and calm down.”
Xavier ended the call, threw his phone to the monster behind him. He takes a few more wacks at a few more balls and before long, Nez, Spitz, and Aldo Diamond, all show up, each dressed like a regular person, despite none of them being even close.
“So? They really were alone?” X asks, looking at each of their faces, a glint of hope in his eye.
“Totally. They even drove here.” Nez says, staring at the monster over X’s shoulder.
“Yeah, boss. Seems the up and up shit was real.” Spitz says, scratching at his stubbled chin.
“Ok, so yeah, they weren’t messing. But do we really have time for this? You’re in a fight with three people that own this game in mad ways, grin. You really think this is the time for this shit? I mean yeah, two of them are family.”
“No. All three of them are. Roger might as well be the new and improved Damon.” X snaps his head to the monster behind him, who lets out a growl. “Calm down, he’s not here.” The other three look to the monster, and then back at Xavier, who is smiling widely. “He’s not a fan of the D name. For good reason. Because he’s my insurance policy against him. Ain’t that right...I really gotta name you.”
“Where do you guys even get these people?”
“Mental institutions, Mostly.”
“...jesus.” Nez says, shocked but also disappointed.
“So they can shove gloves into boxes for min wage but I pay them better to fuck people up and I’m the monster? Be serious.They’ve been letting mentally handicap people fight in this game forever. This business would be me, and like two others if they didn’t.”
“Aldo does have a point, boss.”
“Ok, shut up. I don’t pay a single fucking one of you to be my reminder about this or that. You’re all very aware of what your job is, and let me make it crystal fucking clear what your job isn’t. Your job is not to remind me that I’m facing my brother, who has lit the world on fire in every fed he’s ever worked for. I am aware of that. I am also aware that he’s been on a streak as of late, and not a good one. He’s untethered, and while it may make him dangerous, it also makes him predictable. He isn’t going out there with a game plan, he’s going out there to fucking bite. And you know what you do with a dog that wants to bite? You muzzle that fuck. So I’m gonna grab him by the snout and remind him that while he was born first, I was born better.”
“Your job is also not to tell me that Roger Wright is this or that. Because Roger Wright has made it very clear that Roger Wright’s worst enemy is actually Roger Wright. He tried to be the fucking hero and wound up costing himself more than he thought he could lose. And for what? For this business? This business that will forget him the second after he leaves? OPW doesn’t need Roger Wright as much as Roger Wright needs OPW. If any dude ever had a savior complex, they owe Roger an apology for encroaching on his gimmick. This business thrives on the idea that bad men make shit happen, while good men whine that they want to fix it. You know what kinda world we’d live in if things were done the Wright way? A Neutered one. One where every fight would be preambled with “dont worry, if you don’t like it, ol’ big head mc’goodguy is gonna march down and make it better for you.” This business NEEDS people like Johnny in charge. People who are gonna light the fire under the white hats, while letting the black hats have some fun. Because the white hats, they need something to stand against. And the black hats, the fun they have is fun to watch, and even more fun to be mad about. A Stylez tide lifts all boats. A Wright tide leaves us in a fucking puddle.”
“I feel like I’m the fucking bad guy from Fifth Element. Peace does not make for good tv. HBO is not gonna show us having a wonderful tea party. They want a war. And if you’re gonna have a war, you need something worth going to war for. And chaos, and anarchy, and me doing whatever the fuck I want...That’s a girl worth dying for, if you get my fucking drift.”
“I realize right now that I am in fact monologuing. And while I make fun of everyone else for doing it, let me make it crystal clear the difference. What I am saying, everyone needs to hear. To recognize not as opinion, but as fact. Wright, with his head in his hands over fucking over his own girlfriend, which is not the way she likes to be fucked by the way. Vincent pissed that I keep getting over on him, despite the fact that he’s the ‘better brother.’ And then we have her. The she who should not be named. My loving sister in law. Voodoo. Getting back into the ring the way old prostitutes get back on the corner after being retired. They have no other choice. Not that she needs the money. She was rich before we met her. She has no other choice because her protege, is now my puppet. And trust me when I tell you, she can take a whole hand and more, so that’s as good a metaphor as they get.”
“She has watched as her husband, the so-called Phreeq Mega, has tried and tried again, only to fail at knocking me down a peg. She has watched as time and time again, The Syndicate has done what it wants, and gotten what it wants, despite the white hats best efforts. This is her only course of action. The deck is stacked, the game is rigged, and the payouts for winning are all negative numbers. There are no other good guys coming. There are no backups to call, no mystery wrestlers to bring forward. You made the biggest mistake of your lives. They didn’t just start a war they can’t win. They started a war they can’t even fight.”
“I don’t know. The redhead is pretty tough.”
“Let me tell you something, Nezbian. There are women just as tough, and all of them are on my side.”
Xavier places a new ball on the tee, and with a single swing catapults it into the distance. We follow the ball, and watch as it head over the netting and sails out into the open water, cracking a window on a small boat anchored out in the harbor. Xavier and crew celebrate, as the large masked man behind them looks on. We then fade away into the darkness of the void from which we came.