Post by M.D.K. on Aug 6, 2017 19:26:33 GMT -5
?: “Extortion. Arson. Assault. False imprisonment. Animal cruelty. Sexual harassment. Public intoxication. Public indecency. Public order act violation. Attempted murder. Grand theft auto. DVD piracy. Vandalism… oh and loitering!”
M.D.K. sits smirking in what appears to be an interrogation room with a look of defiance on his face as a middle aged woman stands over him dropping files in front of him with each charge levelled at him. She continues as he stifles a yawn.
Woman: “For over a decade we have trailed you and the wake of destruction which you leave behind in your efforts to be a… ‘professional wrestler’ and the misery you have left behind is frankly disgusting. In all my years as a detective, I have never met such a remorseless and unrepentant and frankly sociopathic individual.”
M.D.K. adjusts in his chair and rests his head on his hands as he looks bored as the woman continues.
Woman: “And what is it all for? All these lives ruined, all this in the pursuit of… well what exactly?”
M.D.K.: “Glory…”
Woman: “Glory? You think that all of your actions are worth a trinket?”
M.D.K.: “It’s all subjective.”
Woman: “Do you call multiple counts of assault on your record subjective? I have got accusations dating back fifteen years where you have scorched people’s bare flesh with a branding iron in front of thousands of people…”
M.D.K. inhales through his nose and smiles with his eyes closed.
M.D.K.: “You never get the smell of burnt flesh out of your nostrils.”
Woman: “I have got cases of orphanages being ransacked by you, I have dogs being butchered, I have old ladies being pushed over and I have churches desecrated by you in the name of entertainment and all you seem to do is smirk and crack jokes! What do you have to say for yourself?”
M.D.K.: “I have painted a rich tapestry during my career…”
The woman continues to look irked by the casual responses. She continues.
Woman: “Cast your mind back. April 19th 2005… Where were you?”
M.D.K. simply chuckles… The woman looks irritated.
Woman: “Does something amuse you with my question?”
M.D.K.: “You are asking about a day in April twelve years ago… Like I haven’t busied myself with more pressing events since then…”
Woman: “Let me remind you that you were competing in New Way Wrestling and were preparing for a match against…”
She pulls out a sheet of paper.
Woman: “A… Spicy Mike and in particular, a Jimmy Sabado. Do either of those names ring a bell?”
A flash of recognition creeps over the face of Tenegra before which the woman notices before continuing.
Woman: “In a bid to draw controversy and ratings, you opted to take a trip to Little Cuba is that correct?”
M.D.K.: “I opted to take a lot of trips I recall…”
Woman: “This one left two little boys and their mother hospitalised with first degree burns.”
M.D.K.: “Accidents do happen…”
Woman: “You captured the whole damn thing on film!”
M.D.K.: “I had a wonderful director on that project…”
The woman becomes enraged and slams her hands down on the desk.
Woman: “The mother died and her two children were bumped about the care system ever since thanks to you. THAT’S not acting. THAT’S not staged. They are REAL LIVES affected by you and your endeavour to be something special.”
M.D.K.: “Ah…”
Woman: “Ah? Is that all you have to say on the matter of lives being taken in the pursuit of your art?”
M.D.K.: “Well what do you suggest I say?”
Woman: “This is the part where you ask for a lawyer…”
M.D.K.: “This was supposed to be a routine set of questions!”
The woman hands him a phone.
Woman: “You have one call…”
M.D.K. sighs and takes the phone and contemplates who to call. He dials a number and he speaks as we can hear that they have answered.
M.D.K.: “It’s me… I need you to work your magic…”
*One hour later*
M.D.K. strolls down the steps of the police station with a smirk on his face while his interrogator walks a step behind with a look of fury and her arms folded. M.D.K. turns to her as he puts his sunglasses and turns to her smiling broadly.
M.D.K.: “I’d like to say that was pleasant…”
Woman: “Just know this Mr Tenegra, I am watching you closely and the moment you mess up? The moment you even look at the line you make a habit of crossing, I’ll be there… You may have low-lives in high places but it won’t protect you forever. Mark my words.”
M.D.K.: “I didn’t catch your name…”
Hopkins: “Hopkins, Detective Hopkins and let me tell you that it will be a name that you will never forget…”
M.D.K.: “Thanks Hopwood… Have a good day…”
M.D.K. trots down the remaining steps as she shakes her head in disgust and turns back to go inside. M.D.K. smiles as he sees a Mustang parked outside the station in a disabled parking space. Leaning casually against the car with a look of mischief on her face stands Alyce. M.D.K. smiles at her and climbs into the passenger seat and picks up the homemade drawn disabled permit and marvels at it before tossing it onto the sidewalk with a cackle as Starchylde climbs into the car and roars the engine into life before screeching off. They drive for a little while in silence with M.D.K. looking out of the window with a look of deep thought across his face. The journey continues in silence with Alyce offering glances at M.D.K. from time to time before getting onto the highway on the outskirts of the city where Starchylde finally breaks the silence.
Starchylde: “So… are you going to tell me what the hell that was all about and why I had to call in a hell of a lot of the favours, bribes and incriminating photos to get you out of there?”
M.D.K.: “An old business partner got a hold of me and asked me to go in and answer a few questions on his behalf as he was being investigated for fraud. What went from me getting him out of trouble turned into me having my past dredged up…”
Starchylde: “Oh diddums. My heart bleeds. You will have to cry into that brand new World Heavyweight Championship.”
M.D.K.: “That’s not what my problem… My problem is realising something…”
Starchylde: “If it’s that you’re an asshole then that isn’t news to anybody…”
He simply turns to Alyce and glares at her and she smirks.
M.D.K.: “I have done a lot of bad things in my past, I have hurt a lot of people and I have a lot of achievements in my life that have come at the expense of so many others.”
Starchylde: “Surely the important thing would be that you have the achievements?”
M.D.K.: “Maybe… but that suit you got to represent me had a clause in getting me off…”
Starchylde: “Sounds like every good hooker I’ve known…”
M.D.K.: “No, I have to find one of the victims of my crazed plans and deliver a heartfelt apology… and get them to accept it…”
Starchylde: “Good luck with that one…”
M.D.K.: “You don’t get it, you’re joining me…”
Starchylde: “Excuse me? Don’t I have my own issues?”
M.D.K.: “Oh come on… you know you want to join me on my first ever… APOLOGY ROADTRIP!”
The car screeches to a halt and the passenger door is flung open on the side of the road and M.D.K. steps out scratching his head. Alyce looks up to him.
Starchylde: “This is something you need to do on your own…”
M.D.K.: “Because I have to find my own redemption?”
Starchylde: “That… and more importantly, I don’t want, need or have to come with you… Toodles…”
The wheels spin and Starchylde screeches off into the early evening light as M.D.K. scratches his head and looks around.
M.D.K.: “Well… fuck…”
***
It’s the following day and we find ourselves in a leafy suburban street. A group of children are playing hockey in the middle of the road and as one spies a car approaching, he calls out to his friends to alert them but the car doesn’t appear to be slowing down. The kids grabs what they can and the car crushes the goal that is still in the middle of the road and it flips up into the air as a mangled and destroyed hunk of plastic, metal and netting. The kids look at the car as it screeches to a halt and pulls over. The door opens and M.D.K. steps out and slams the door shut. He glances at the bodywork of the car and shakes his head in the direction of the kids before taking out a piece of paper and checking it out before looking up at a house to see if the address matched what is written on the paper. He walks up the path and stumbles over a series of garden trinkets before making his way to the door and ringing the bell which plays a jaunty jingle. He sighs as he adjusts his shirt and places his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his blazer as a little old man appears at the door tentatively.
Old Man: “Can I help you son?”
M.D.K.: “I’m Danny and I am looking for an Agnes Mugglestein… Is she here?”
Old Man: “Ah, we’ve been expecting you…”
M.D.K.: “Have you?”
Old Man: “Of course! Agnes spoke of you highly…”
M.D.K.: “I think you may have me mixed up…”
Old Man: “No, no! You are exactly how she described you to us all. She will love to have you here…”
M.D.K.: “Look, I am only here to apologise and then I can move on…”
Old Man: “Just like our dear Agnes…”
M.D.K.: “Wait… what?”
We cut to M.D.K. sitting stony faced opposite the open casket of a little old lady. The same old lady who M.D.K. encountered back in April and had a set to with over a road collision. M.D.K.’s eyes are fixed on her pale, dead face as various old people gather and chat over neatly cut sandwiches and cups of tea. The old man places his hand on M.D.K.’s shoulder and speaks to him.
Old Man: “Agnes would regularly talk about her favourite nephew Danny and how he would send her a poem he’d written for every one of her birthdays.”
M.D.K.: “I keep saying that I think you have mistaken me…”
But his words were falling on deaf ears – literally – as the old man’s hearing aid kept whistling and chirping to show it wasn’t fitted properly as he simply nodded in acknowledgment.
Old Man: “You know, it would be great if you could tell us one of your poems to her right now…”
M.D.K.: “I’m telling you…”
But an old lady chimes in and soon the group of about fifteen old people stand around M.D.K. as he stands next to the dead old lady and looks increasingly uncomfortable. He sighs and stands up and rests his hands as the congregation of elderly folk smile in anticipation. M.D.K. clears his throat and places his hand on Agnes’ cold, dead hand.
M.D.K.: “You want a poem? Sure, I can give you a poem.
There once was a lady called Agnes…”
But he pauses as he realises quickly that nothing rhymed with Agnes… He holds up his hand and pretends to choke back a tear of emotion.
M.D.K.: “Sorry, let me start again…
Agnes, Agnes now departed,
Your death has left many broken-hearted,
Agnes, Agnes now deceased,
Your legacy now, is a cheese sandwich feast,
Agnes, Agnes now demised,
Your death has left us all surprised,
Agnes, Agnes laying here,
While we celebrate with wine… and beer?”
Your death has left many broken-hearted,
Agnes, Agnes now deceased,
Your legacy now, is a cheese sandwich feast,
Agnes, Agnes now demised,
Your death has left us all surprised,
Agnes, Agnes laying here,
While we celebrate with wine… and beer?”
The guests of the wake turn to each other slightly confused… M.D.K. continues.
“Agnes, Agnes, gone to soon,
Now to be mourned, by the cast of Cocoon,
Agnes, Agnes, now we’re moping,
I’m surprised that this casket’s open…
Agnes, Agnes, once alive,
Was a bitch, who couldn’t drive…”
Now to be mourned, by the cast of Cocoon,
Agnes, Agnes, now we’re moping,
I’m surprised that this casket’s open…
Agnes, Agnes, once alive,
Was a bitch, who couldn’t drive…”
The old man steps forward as the other guests gasp.
Old Man: “You should leave now before we call the police…”
M.D.K. stands outside the house and walks back to where two kids stand waiting for him each holding a piece of the now destroyed hockey goal.
Kid 1: “Hey Mister! You broke our goal…”
M.D.K. stops walking towards his car and stares at the kid as his little brother pipes up.
Kid 2: “Yeah!”
M.D.K.: “So what? You’re lucky that it isn’t your spines that are looking like that and if you are ever near the road when I’m driving again it will be…”
Kid 1: “You can’t say that to us! We’re just kids!”
M.D.K.: “Well I guess it’s time to grow up then!”
Kid 2: “I’m telling my dad on you!”
M.D.K.: “Good! I’ll run him over too!”
M.D.K. leaves the two kids standing shocked and upset as he strolls back to his car. A tiny girl no more than seven years old stands by his car licking an oversized ice-cream. He looks at her as she looks up at him with her eyes narrowed.
Little Girl: “You are a meanie and my mummy says that meanies are mean because they don’t have happiness in their heart…”
M.D.K. unlocks the car, contemplates leaving without saying anything and then turns to the little girl and crouches down to be at her level.
M.D.K.: “You are right, I’m not a very nice man… a ‘meanie’ if you will. But it’s not why your mummy says because I’m very happy… in fact, it’s because I am mean that I am so happy! See?”
And with that he tips her ice cream into her face before swatting it from her hand and forcing it from her hand. She looks down at it as M.D.K. smirks and stands up to get back into the car and as he drives away, he takes his phone out and dials a number.
M.D.K.: “Old lady was a no-go… No, I don’t want to do that one… You know why… I’ll go there instead…”
***
Paradise, Arizona at night-time. A coyote howls in the background as the car comes to a halt outside a familiar residence as M.D.K. walks up the path and stands by the door. He contemplates knocking and sighs deeply, closes his eyes and shakes his head… He turns away and comes face to face with the barrel of a shotgun which causes him to raise his eyebrows. The old man who helped him ahead of Wrestle Wars stands in front of him levelling the firearm at him.
Old Man: “You got a lot of nerve to show your face here…”
M.D.K.: “Nate… I know how it looked last time but you got my care package of gratitude yes?”
Old Man: “The fruit basket? Racoons got it before we could eat anything. Chewed the mangos and pissed on the oranges…”
M.D.K.: “Fruit basket? I’m sure that I asked them to send you a new pick-up…”
Old Man: “Those two are easy to mix up…”
M.D.K.: “Look, I am here to find somebody to whom I can show remorse to for my actions. I thought I could because to you, I wasn’t that bad.”
Old Man: “I’ve seen what you can do and how you repay those who help you…”
M.D.K.: “Listen, can I just say my piece?”
Nate Senior clicks his shotgun and M.D.K. slowly backs down the pathway with his hands raised. He slowly climbs into the car and his phone starts to ring. He answers it with a look of irritation as he turns the engine over…
M.D.K.: “How did it go?”
The old man lets off a shotgun blast that shatters the rear window causing M.D.K. to cower a little before screeching off.
M.D.K.: “Could have been better… try again…”
***
We are then treated to a montage of people closing doors on M.D.K., swearing at him and then culminating with a nun spitting into his face until we are left with M.D.K. sitting forlornly on the bonnet (hood) of his car as his phone rings. He answers it and sits silently for a minute. Before replying in short sentences…
M.D.K.: “I know… I know… I don’t want to… Because it will make it worse… It won’t! And if it doesn't? It’s not your pride on the line… I really don’t want this…”
***
The cars tyres crackle against the gravel as M.D.K. pulls up at a large vintage building set back amongst the trees. M.D.K. climbs out the car and looks up at the sign and sighs deeply.
*Shady Willows Hospice*
M.D.K. steps up to the front desk and a nurse smiles at him.
M.D.K.: “I’m here to see Mr Simmons…”
The nurse smiles sadly and buzzes M.D.K. through.
Nurse: “It’s the last door on the right hand side. He might be awake…”
M.D.K.: “Is anybody else here? Family?”
The nurse sadly shakes her head and M.D.K. looks down at his shoes before following the directions down the corridor. His nostrils flare as he inhales the odour synonymous with places such as this. A mixture of death and disinfectant fills the air along with deafening silence were it not for wartime music playing on a radio somewhere in the building. The walls are a clean white colour and the floors are industrial but strangely comforting as his shoes click on the surface. As he reaches the door and places his hand on the handle, he smiles and thinks back to his first meeting with the man behind this door.
***
Newark Airport 2002… Airport security was at a high for obvious reasons and yet nobody is watching a fresh faced familiar face standing at the luggage claim and looking guilty before leaning forwards, picking up an expensive looking case and making his way out of the airport. He spies the exit and makes his way there before tumbling face-first to the ground as an older black gentleman stands over him with a cigar in his mouth and a grin on his face. For those who have followed M.D.K. and his antics for years, you will recognise this as his manager ‘Fast Car’ Eddie Simmons. M.D.K. looks up at him breathing heavily as the man adjusts himself and taps his cane that tripped M.D.K. up on the case.
Eddie: “I believe you have my case there young man…”
He casually leans down and picks up the case before strolling out of the airport to wait for a cab. M.D.K. pursues him.
M.D.K.: “You think that I couldn’t take is if I wanted to? I’m letting you walk old man… Call me a merciful god…”
Eddie looks at the young M.D.K. from his scruffy hair down to his battered trainers and laughs loudly.
Eddie: “Kid, you have fire… but you sound like an ass… now let me buy you a coffee, you look like you haven’t eaten in a while. New to the City?”
M.D.K.: “What is it to you?”
Eddie leans forwards and grabs the hand of M.D.K. and the future WGWF star winces as he looks at his knuckles that are grazed, bruised and misshapen.
Eddie: “Because the two buck fights are drying up because people know you aren’t you regular bum fighter… Because the gleam in your eye tells me you are destined for bigger and better things as long as you don’t lose sight of the hunger that has gotten you this far. And as long as you avoid being an asshole, you could potentially do more than snatch luggage at second grade airports…”
M.D.K. narrows his eyes like a wary wild animal. Eddie turns the grab of the hand into a handshake.
Eddie: “Eddie Simmons, entrepreneur and your new manager. And you are?”
M.D.K.: “Not used to formal greetings…”
Eddie roars with laughter, coughs heartily and then lights another cigar.
Eddie: “So tell me, how are you getting by in New York? Breaking the law?”
M.D.K.: “What? No… other than the occasional luggage theft…”
Eddie: “Then brawling it is then as you don’t strike me as the type to sell hand-jobs out of the back of Macy’s.”
M.D.K. glowers at Eddie.
Eddie: “Look, you look like you can handle yourself… had much success?”
M.D.K.: “Enough to keep a roof over my head, not enough to not look for clothes in luggage…”
Eddie laughs again and slaps the table.
Eddie: “Listen, if you stick by me, I can make you something special…”
***
Present time, M.D.K. knocks on the door and opens the door to the room where a contrasting figure lies in the bed of a hospice with a mask attached to his face and a ventilator helping him to breathe while a line is going into his arm to deliver constant pain relief. Eddie hasn’t been around for a few years now and clearly the years haven’t been kind to him as he lays in this white room, with Cole Porter playing gently in the background and pictures of his family by his bed being the closest thing to them being here. There is a gentle tilt of the head as Eddie identifies somebody entering his room and a croaky voice speaks up.
Eddie: “Cassie? Is that you?”
M.D.K. sighs deeply and looks down blinking hard before putting on a smile.
M.D.K.: “Not even at weekends Ed… It’s me, Danny…”
Eddie simply looks towards the window without a word of recognition. M.D.K.’s smile falters as he walks into the room.
M.D.K.: “Eddie, I should have got here sooner but I have been busy… Super busy…”
Eddie: “Busy doing nothing… Or busy being an asshole as you always have been?”
M.D.K.: “I-“
Eddie: “I already know the answer kid… Why are you here?”
M.D.K.: “I don’t need an excuse to see you do I?”
Eddie: “Anything that doesn’t benefit you always needs a reason…”
M.D.K.’s lips narrow and he closes his eyes as he sits in the chair beside his bed. If anybody else spoke to him like this, he would have battered them but not only is Eddie sick, but he was a father figure to him from the moment he set foot in the USA. He guided M.D.K. from dreamer, to star, to superstar and to the icon of the industry that he is today. He is the reason that M.D.K. is heading into Summer Madness still at the top of his game even after all of these years. Eddie continues with his breath laboured…
Eddie: “So I ask you again… why are you here?”
M.D.K.: “There is no reason! I’m here because I care and you are the only person who doesn’t see me for the asshole I am…”
Eddie: “So that’s it… after all these years… you need someone… to pat your head… and call you a good boy… You always were a puppy…”
M.D.K.: “Why you gotta be like this Ed? I’m here aren’t I?”
With a grunt and a cough, Eddie struggles to sit up in his bed a little.
Eddie: “And how long have I been here? How long have I been ill and you have ignored my calls, my messages… How long has it taken you to get your sorry ass here?”
He then splutters and coughs uncontrollably until he reaches for the mask and clutches it tightly as he breathes into it deeply. M.D.K. looks down at his feet.
M.D.K.: “You know why Eddie…”
Eddie: “Because you’re still an asshole… right?”
M.D.K. doesn’t respond. Partly through shame and partly because he knows that Eddie already knows the answer.
Eddie: “You were such a nice boy… You had the potential to be just that for years. This asshole act of yours? It’s cheap… it’s nasty… and it’s the easy way out… It’s not what I taught you to be like.”
M.D.K.: “But it works Eddie! Never have I had the crowds hanging onto my every word, never have I had such a target on my back for people wanting a piece of me. This is my true calling Eddie…”
Eddie: “At what cost? Look at me Danny… Sitting here with your white ass keeping me company. You have to ask if it’s worth it… if all the misery you are inflicting it truly worth it…”
M.D.K.: “Do you forgive me Eddie?”
Eddie: “What?”
M.D.K.: “Do you forgive me?”
Eddie: “Is that why you’re here? Forgiveness?”
Silence again… and again, Eddie doesn’t need an answer to know. He lowers the mask a little and talks to him.
Eddie: “Danny, you turned your back on me when I needed you more than ever. You went with the fattest cash cow and pursued your dreams at the expense of everyone and anyone you help dear. Sally’s gone, Nicole’s gone and all those bitches riding your coat-tails are long gone. The yes men are long gone and for what? Was it worth it?”
M.D.K.: “A dozen World Titles around the world, Hall of Famer in 4 different companies, rich beyond my means and still the one they come to see as I career towards forty…”
Eddie: “And yet not one friend to your name…”
M.D.K.: “I have friends!”
Eddie: “The pieces of meat you fuck don’t count… Think back Danny, who likes you? Who is your friend because of who you are? Not because they fear being against you, not because they benefit from you… who likes Danny Tenegra?”
Silence again… a silence that speaks volumes. Eddie takes a deep breath using the mask and continues.
Eddie: “I did… and what did you do? You turned your back on me and left me in the cold. You sold me down the river and turned your back on me when I needed you… So no Danny, I don’t forgive you…”
M.D.K.: “How can you say that to me? After all I did…”
Eddie: “I can say it because of ALL YOU DID…”
Eddie collapses into another coughing fit and M.D.K.’s eyes narrow in fury as he reaches out for his pain control button. M.D.K. stands up and looks down at his former manager.
M.D.K.: “I’m sorry Eddie… I’m sorry you can’t forgive me… find solace in your photos…”
He reaches forwards and pushes the pain control button towards Eddie and as he reaches for it, slides it completely off of the table onto the floor.
M.D.K.: “Oops… Look after yourself Ed…”
***
We jump cut to M.D.K. sitting in the carpark of the Hospice resting against the steering wheel in silence. He pauses for a moment before unleashing a full blown rage filled tantrum filled with primitive roaring and hammering of the dashboard before collapsing his head into his hands and breathing deeply…
He sits up, his eyes red and shakes his head. He starts the car up and the radio is playing…
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGDA0Hecw1k
M.D.K. grunts and turns the radio off before backing the car up and skidding out of the carpark as the car gets back onto the road and M.D.K. drives away.
***
M.D.K.: “… and now I’m here… talking to a slab of marble in the hope I can find some solace or just something… ANYTHING to let me know I am something more…”
M.D.K. stands with his hands in his pockets at a graveside. It is of one of oldest and dearest in-ring friends who died a few years ago. He looks down at the tombstone and can see Chris ‘Insomnia’ Lynch’s face smirking back at him just as fresh faced as when he last saw him. Insomnia taught him a hell of a lot and was a driving force that took M.D.K. from being one of the sheep… to being the big, bad wolf of professional wrestling.
M.D.K.: “And I know that you would probably slap me and tell me that I’m acting like a big girl’s blouse but right now, I’m wondering if it really has been worth it. Has the hurt I have inflicted on so very many people over these years really been worth it. Has the glory, the accolades and the plaudits been worth the amount of people that I have hurt physically and emotionally over the years. Is Eddie right?”
“I am going to war with a man who has thrived off of being popular, a man who has the fans in the palm of his hand from being… a nice guy… by giving them what they want and he’s damn good at it. He’s a people pleaser and while I have to admire what he does, it just doesn’t sit right with me. You remember when I really tried to be the nice guy? Remember when I tried to be the people pleaser?”
He kicks a stone near the grave as he laughs.
M.D.K.: “Me neither but there was a time I gave a shit what people thought of me. There was a time when I cared what you thought… And it took me far. It got me to the top time and time and time again and it’s what keeps me there even now, after all I have been through and all my body and soul has endured, I’m still at the top of my game… And yet, there’s something missing… It’s not competition as there are a hundred fresh faced pissants coming through every minute for me to bitch slap, it’s not my drive because here I am getting ready for yet another run with a World Heavyweight Championship… I don’t know what it is in all honesty because if I did, I would have quashed the thirst for it.”
He laughs again.
M.D.K.: “Maybe it’s having someone that GETS me. Does that make sense? You got me, Cyc gets me but here? In the WGWF? I don’t know whether people truly GET me… Frosty tried, and Slater and his monkey butler are nowhere near getting it… One man does, the one man who I have battled more times than I care to remember. A man who he and I have beaten respect into one another over the years and will be sitting watching Slater and me come Summer Madness and will be smiling knowing that this has played out exactly how I wanted it…”
“Look, I know it’s futile asking you but for all the shit over the years, but do you forgive me? Can I ask of your forgiveness for everything? Can your rotting corpse forgive me?”
?: “You know sir that there is nobody in that grave?”
M.D.K. turns to see a groundskeeper tending to the grave… M.D.K. simply stares at him and he continues.
Groundskeeper: “Yeah… Turned out he faked his death to draw ratings for his art. Did wonders for his career…”
M.D.K. gives the groundskeeper an incredulous look.
M.D.K.: “Can you not see I’m trying to create a moment?”
Groundskeeper: “Oh… and I guess me saying that didn’t help you?”
M.D.K. just stares at him…
Groundskeeper: “Ah… that’s awkward! Sorry sir!”
M.D.K. palms his own face as we cut away.
The Words of the Once and Future King:
M.D.K. sits on the edge of the ring in the darkened Madison Square Garden. Everything is in place for tomorrow night. So what better way to get ready than to sit down, get comfortable and listen to the truth that the future WGWF World Heavyweight Champion has to say.
M.D.K.: “So it’s all come down to this. All the games, the beatings and the stunts have come down to one more match, one final score to settle and one final time to try and get through to you the three letters you are so averse to uttering and how those three simple letters will say three simple words that will be the punctuation on what has been an… adequate run with the title.”
“You see, you speak of me with such derision, you mock my legacy, you mock my past and you criticise my past few months… And yet, it was YOU who handpicked me to cement a legacy as a champion… So that either makes you a coward choosing an easy option, or a fucking liar hiding behind bravado… So which is it Tristan? A coward, or a liar… Personally I see both in you and for a proposed champion of the people, the so called Glorious one is nothing more than a Glorious fraud…”
“I have sat back and watched you as you hide from opening your mouth, because the half a dozen generic shit-nuggets that each and every cretin that has fallen by the wayside has tried and failed to deliver. Let me guess; I’m old, I’m over the hill, I’m lazy and I’m coasting by on my legacy… Let me spell something out to you Slater; in this glorified pantomime, I’m the fucking bad guy. I get paid for doing bad things… to nice people. When people don’t like what I say, what I do and how I do it, I am doing my job pretty damn well… You have cowered, you have tried to hide your inadequacies with bullshit bravado and you have disrespected me at every turn… You have hidden out back, you have ducked the big matches and you have pulled your punches… and yet it is ME who is the bad guy?”
“Be honest Tristan, had I not dragged your carcass out to the ring last Monday, would you have signed? Or would you have ducked me like you have evaded talking to me or about me until this moment right here, and right now? Your imagination and your wit are so sorely lacking that you have to store each and every little morsel of hatred up for once big purge and when the crunch comes, what you deliver is… well it’s frankly lacking…”
“I think what saddens me most Tristan is you clearly missed the most important lesson when you learned this craft. You clearly never got to understand how to embrace your faults and your flaws and with you, they are many and terminal… See, I am big enough, ugly enough and have been in the industry long enough to accept and embrace my flaws. Like the one you care so much to harp on about… My last title run.”
“Did I not explain it to you at length just before Wrestle Wars? Did that pen go so deep on the last Brawl that I gave you a Glorious Lobotomy? The last time I was champion, was in a world where one of six men could have been World Champion, the talent pool was unfathomably deep and Chris Page was at the utter peak of his career. The fact I held that title for even the shortest time was a feat to behold and when you throw the fact that I had acquired the big three titles in the WGWF in the space of six months, you realise that I was the big fucking deal that I clearly still am. Read the WGWF website, look on social media and just wipe your man-servant’s sperm out of your eyes for just two minutes to look at who is receiving challenges, who is the man that they all want to get their hands on and who is the man that the world is talking about? It ain’t you ‘champ’ and it never will be.”
“Cast your mind back to that West Coast Rumble if you want. This company was on its uppers once again and it needed a jumpstart. The champion had walked out and you were relying on an old man rehashing a god complex for the 145th time for the headlines. Adding the three little letters that you are so scared to utter to the mix saved this company and I have been sitting pretty as the main attraction ever since. I’m the name on everybody’s lips, I’m the man that they want to hate and more importantly and I will hammer this home until you fucking get it…
I’M THE CHALLENGER THAT YOU PICKED FOR YOURSELF YOU FUCKING MOOK.”
He clenches his hands around the edge of the apron as he struggles to keep his temper. He takes a deep breath and clicks his neck before continuing.
M.D.K.: “And so what better way to bring the curtain down on this battle between us? Well a New York Street Fight right here in the heart of New York City… No holds barred, no limits, no holding back any more. What people have been craving since they first saw us go toe to toe and what I was doing when I first set foot in this city way too long ago.”
“Unlike you Tristan, I haven’t always had things my way. You may get the vibe that I am a little… unlikable and because of that, I have fought for everything I have ever achieved. I have clawed, punched and bit my way to every single moment of glory… I have been looking for redemption this past few days for all the people I have hurt, for all those I have wronged. People who perceived me to be a friend, people I have loved, friends, family and lovers. I can’t find it because of how deep-seeded that wickedness is sown within me. People have asked me in the past whether my actions can be justified. I ask you to look at my accolades for verification. I have hurt men, women and children. I have lied, cheated and stolen and I have been nothing short of a cunt in my life. And do you know why?”
“Hunger.”
“Because I have always been hungry. Hungry for the next challenge. Hungry for the next taste of glory. So I have taken my foot off of the gas this past couple of weeks, so fucking what, who would begrudge me saving myself for this Glorious meal that has been prepared for me? Kyle Shane can have a tag victory over me, Alyce can have a victory over me and you can pin Paul Frost to claim to have one over on me and yet one match matters, one match has that World Heavyweight Championship on the line so those aperitifs can fuck off because you are the main course and when I hold that World Heavyweight Championship in my arms once again, that will be the sweetest dessert of all.”
“Can you tell me that you still have the hunger Tristan? Can you tell me that the drive that saw you capture the World Heavyweight Championship is still there? Can you tell me that you have what it takes to keep pushing yourself forwards if I am not there snapping at your heels? Could you do the same if it was somebody insipid and fair-weather like Kyle Shane? Would your passion still be there if it were your monkey butler chomping at your heels rather than your nut-sack for a change? Can you still be you if I am not there as a polarising force?”
“You see Tristan, the only reason you are perceived to be such a nice guy in the eyes of the moronic masses is when it’s put into context, you simply look like a nice guy in comparison to those you fight. Against a zealot with a god complex and a penchant for Passion of the Christ? You are practically Jesus Christ... and against the biggest, baddest alpha fucking male in professional wrestling today? Well Charlie Manson, Donald Trump and half of ISIS are gonna cut a sympathetic figure standing next to me.”
“To so many people, I am perceived to be a bogeyman of sorts. I strike fear into the heart as I pick apart your most recessive fears and that my boy, is when it struck me… You don’t say my name… my REAL name because it makes it real doesn’t it Slater? It makes what is gonna happen at Summer Madness even more real, it makes the inevitable bitter pill of defeat that little bit more difficult to swallow and it brings the pain that I am going to deliver to you right here in New York City that little bit closer. For you Tristan, whether you say my name or not, I’m coming for you… and I’m going to break you.”
“M.D.K., M.D.K., M.D.K…. It just rolls off the tongue and yet you sit there like a kid unable to say it. When the heel of my boot has gone straight through your fucking temple, it will be the only three letters that you will be able to utter.”
He hauls himself up to his feet and strolls back up the ramp.
M.D.K.: “I will give it to you though kid, you have surpassed everybody’s expectations and have given it a good go. You have been an adequate champion and you have done… your best but that is only down to the calibre of adversary laid in front of you and you can bemoan me now, but I am gonna be there come Summer Madness because of you, I am going to be grinding you into the mat come Summer Madness… because of you and come Summer Madness, you will learn how to be humble as I let you and the rest of these peons, peasants and pissants watching around the world hear those three simple words that people long to hear as long as it isn’t aimed at them… Tristan Slater…
YOU… ARE… INFERIOR…”
He walks up the ramp and looks back at the ring and the large WGWF sign and fixes his gaze on it for a moment, before leaving the ramp at which point the lights go out and the scene comes to an end.