Post by M.D.K. on Jul 22, 2018 19:01:25 GMT -5
*Knock Knock Knock*
?: “Danny? Open up… Please!”
There’s no response from inside the room where we are and we hear the head of the female voice bump gently against the door on the outside. It’s Alyce and she hasn’t heard from M.D.K. since last week. We hear a scrape as her hand presses against the door.
Alyce: “Just let me know that you are in there and OK please Danny…”
Silence is maintained and we cut to the outside where Alyce looks over her shoulder and sees two men in suits walking towards her.
Man 1: “Excuse me miss. There has been a report of a female matching your description harassing the guests here.”
Alyce: “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Man: “Miss… could you ease up on the language please?”
Starchylde leans into the door with tears in her eyes.
Alyce: “Danny… Don’t freeze me out… Please…”
The hand of one of the guards moves to her shoulder and she shakes him off before being tearfully led away.
*Buzz Buzz Buzz*
His phone buzzes again as the number of messages and missed calls moves into three figures and yet the phone remains on its charger on the dresser unmoved. He’d barely moved since arriving back in London for two back to back shows of WGWF action in his home city. He finally stirs to reach out for the velvet cushion on which he would lay his title on to rest previously. It wasn’t there for him now though. It had been snatched away from him unjustly let again and now the cushion was bare and lonely.
So was the one under his head right now… So was the head that rested upon it. He looked at the cushion… as if he were willing for the title to appear upon it once again. It wasn’t going to be though. That title… HIS title was sitting in the office of a corporate oaf who was revelling in being able to lay his hands on the title right now as though it were his own. It wasn’t. It belonged to one man and one man alone and he is in his bed refusing to move. Why should he move? He’s got nothing to move for; no title, no glory, no crown… What could possibly get him out of bed…
*Click… hiss…*
The television crackles into life without warning and it forced M.D.K. to rolls over and narrow his eyes to view the screen which is simply static. With a frown on his face, M.D.K. looks around him to locate the remote control but then spies in on the dresser beside his phone.; out of the way to have been accidentally turned on.
?: “You mother fucker… need to lighten up…”
An old black man appears on his screen and M.D.K.’s eyes widen in disbelief; sat in front of him on the screen - clad in a white suit - was his old mentor and manager ‘Fast Car’ Eddie Simmons. He hasn’t been seen in a long time and certainly hasn’t been this bright and breezy in a long time considering that he’s been in a hospice for the longest time. He’s in no fit state to talk and yet here he is talking to a stunned M.D.K.
Simmons: “What’s the matter; finally thinking that you have lost it?”
No response.
Simmons: “Of course you do. A television has turned itself on to talk to you and you are sitting moping like a bitch.”
He shuffles to the end of the bed to observe quietly as Eddie continues.
Simmons: “So you lost your title… so you think pushing the lady away from you who actually understands that fucked up head of yours and you have a chance to exact a little revenge this week and what are you doing? The silent treatment like a little bitch. Not only do you have the world in your hands but the power in your future to take back what is rightfully yours at Summer Madness and where do I find you? In a pit of you self pitying arse surrounded by tissues that I doubt have been used for crying…”
“Listen kid, you may have a bit more grey in the hair and beard and you might be long in the tooth but you are still a kid to me… You get to step into that ring with somebody clamouring to get their hands on you, somebody terrified of you getting their hands on them, a rejected Heath Ledger project and a fucking potato… I might be real, a hallucination as you appear to be unable to speak or a projection of your feelings as you are refusing to speak. Whatever it is, you need to drag your arse up to your feet, shower your pitiful carcass and get yourself into a frame of mind befitting of a man on the edge who still wants to win…”
“Are you honestly going to let me do all of the talking? There’s a first time for everything I guess… Well, just make sure that you prepare to face a lot more demons as Summer Madness draws near. If you ain’t ready now, will you ever be? Now get off of your arse and tell me who the superior athlete is…”
M.D.K. stands up and his eyes glint with steely determination. He walks over to the mounted television and with a grunt, rips it from the wall. He then casually walks over to the window and hauls it out with a wicked glint in his eye. After a distant crash, M.D.K. looks down at the ornate cushion once more and strokes it, smiles and says one word and one word alone.
M.D.K.: “Soon.”
With that he heads into the shower as the scene comes to an end.
?: “Danny? Open up… Please!”
There’s no response from inside the room where we are and we hear the head of the female voice bump gently against the door on the outside. It’s Alyce and she hasn’t heard from M.D.K. since last week. We hear a scrape as her hand presses against the door.
Alyce: “Just let me know that you are in there and OK please Danny…”
Silence is maintained and we cut to the outside where Alyce looks over her shoulder and sees two men in suits walking towards her.
Man 1: “Excuse me miss. There has been a report of a female matching your description harassing the guests here.”
Alyce: “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Man: “Miss… could you ease up on the language please?”
Starchylde leans into the door with tears in her eyes.
Alyce: “Danny… Don’t freeze me out… Please…”
The hand of one of the guards moves to her shoulder and she shakes him off before being tearfully led away.
*Buzz Buzz Buzz*
His phone buzzes again as the number of messages and missed calls moves into three figures and yet the phone remains on its charger on the dresser unmoved. He’d barely moved since arriving back in London for two back to back shows of WGWF action in his home city. He finally stirs to reach out for the velvet cushion on which he would lay his title on to rest previously. It wasn’t there for him now though. It had been snatched away from him unjustly let again and now the cushion was bare and lonely.
So was the one under his head right now… So was the head that rested upon it. He looked at the cushion… as if he were willing for the title to appear upon it once again. It wasn’t going to be though. That title… HIS title was sitting in the office of a corporate oaf who was revelling in being able to lay his hands on the title right now as though it were his own. It wasn’t. It belonged to one man and one man alone and he is in his bed refusing to move. Why should he move? He’s got nothing to move for; no title, no glory, no crown… What could possibly get him out of bed…
*Click… hiss…*
The television crackles into life without warning and it forced M.D.K. to rolls over and narrow his eyes to view the screen which is simply static. With a frown on his face, M.D.K. looks around him to locate the remote control but then spies in on the dresser beside his phone.; out of the way to have been accidentally turned on.
?: “You mother fucker… need to lighten up…”
An old black man appears on his screen and M.D.K.’s eyes widen in disbelief; sat in front of him on the screen - clad in a white suit - was his old mentor and manager ‘Fast Car’ Eddie Simmons. He hasn’t been seen in a long time and certainly hasn’t been this bright and breezy in a long time considering that he’s been in a hospice for the longest time. He’s in no fit state to talk and yet here he is talking to a stunned M.D.K.
Simmons: “What’s the matter; finally thinking that you have lost it?”
No response.
Simmons: “Of course you do. A television has turned itself on to talk to you and you are sitting moping like a bitch.”
He shuffles to the end of the bed to observe quietly as Eddie continues.
Simmons: “So you lost your title… so you think pushing the lady away from you who actually understands that fucked up head of yours and you have a chance to exact a little revenge this week and what are you doing? The silent treatment like a little bitch. Not only do you have the world in your hands but the power in your future to take back what is rightfully yours at Summer Madness and where do I find you? In a pit of you self pitying arse surrounded by tissues that I doubt have been used for crying…”
“Listen kid, you may have a bit more grey in the hair and beard and you might be long in the tooth but you are still a kid to me… You get to step into that ring with somebody clamouring to get their hands on you, somebody terrified of you getting their hands on them, a rejected Heath Ledger project and a fucking potato… I might be real, a hallucination as you appear to be unable to speak or a projection of your feelings as you are refusing to speak. Whatever it is, you need to drag your arse up to your feet, shower your pitiful carcass and get yourself into a frame of mind befitting of a man on the edge who still wants to win…”
“Are you honestly going to let me do all of the talking? There’s a first time for everything I guess… Well, just make sure that you prepare to face a lot more demons as Summer Madness draws near. If you ain’t ready now, will you ever be? Now get off of your arse and tell me who the superior athlete is…”
M.D.K. stands up and his eyes glint with steely determination. He walks over to the mounted television and with a grunt, rips it from the wall. He then casually walks over to the window and hauls it out with a wicked glint in his eye. After a distant crash, M.D.K. looks down at the ornate cushion once more and strokes it, smiles and says one word and one word alone.
M.D.K.: “Soon.”
With that he heads into the shower as the scene comes to an end.