Post by Devlin Knight on Nov 17, 2022 13:02:07 GMT -5
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking…
”Debonair-1” flies smoothly above the clouds, heading north of Vegas, the fabric, glass and oak furnishings come together like a smorgasbord of class on board the plane. Fred is sat facing the pilots cabin dressed in one of his navy blue three-piece check Brioni suits and brown Brogues, opposite him, Gerald also dressed smartly in a suit, pours through a bunch of files on a seat beside him. A Flight Attendant comes along with a tray carrying a leather Hermès trunk.
Gerald watches on, as Fred places the trunk on a glass table situated between them both and opens it carefully. He looks up and nods his head toward the trunk.
Gerald watches on, as Fred places the trunk on a glass table situated between them both and opens it carefully. He looks up and nods his head toward the trunk.
Fred: ”Rémy Martin Louis XIII Cognac. This particular type is extremely rare, associated with luxury travel since its inception in 1874… Two examples of where it could be found are on the Concorde and the Bar car of The Orient Express…”
Gerald: ”And now on Debonair-1, of course.”
Fred: ”Of course. Now, to celebrate and honour its exploration throughout the ages, Rémy Martin enlisted the help of three more iconic French “luxury houses” to assist in its endeavours.”
Fred runs his hand over the trunk, as Gerald leans in, to inspect a little closer.
Fred: ”Firstly, Hermès, who created these beautiful three hand-stitched leather trunks… They, in turn contain four Crystal glasses, all mouth-blown and hand-engraved along with a Crystal decanter, all of those created by Saint-Louis…”
Fred takes two of the four glasses, placing one in front of Gerald, as he continues.
Fred: ”The final component is this magnificent white gold handmade Pipette, made by none other than the world's most famous Silversmiths, Puiforcat, used to pour and taste the Cognac in that special way.”
Gerald: ”As interesting as this history lesson is brother and it is interesting, why am I getting it?”
Fred takes two of the Crystal glasses and slowly pours a generous amount into both, then as he places the decanter back in its pocket, slowly turns the trunk towards Gerald where he reads on the inside of the lid.
Fred: ”This is called “L’Odyssée d’un Roi.” Which means… “The Odyssey of a King.” You see, Rémy Martin did not NEED to enlist the assistance of these three houses, he wanted to. He wanted to bring in others to join him on his odyssey, this long, eventful and adventurous journey… The same way Fred Debonair chose, whether intentionally or not, three others to join him, on his “Odyssée d'un royaume'' right?”
Gerald: ”Odyssey of a Kingdom… Right.”
Fred: ”Exactly and in this instance you’ve got J Mont, the neatly stitched trunk, holding everything together in a nice little package. Vaughn, the Crystal glasses, set apart and created in equal measure of understated grandeur and to top it off you have Flynn, the White Gold that adds that special something, that extra taste at the end, when all is said and done…”
Gerald: ”Amazing… And that undoubtedly makes you Rémy Martin in this equation, I take it?”
Fred: ”Gerald, my friend… You can’t say undoubtedly and then ask the question…”
Gerald: ”Oh! My bad…”
Fred: ”But yes, I am.”
The Flight Attendant is back, now with a small jug of water, Fred slowly pours it into the glasses of Cognac. Both men raise their glasses and sip. Fred closes the lid on the Hermès trunk and points towards the papers.
Fred: ”So what’s this…?”
Gerald: ”We’re flying into Juneau, Alaska and searching for a man named Corey Mann.”
Fred: ”What did he do?”
Gerald: ”He’s a tour guide in the area…”
Fred looks up from taking another sip of his Rémy Martin and raises an eyebrow.
Fred: ”Wait, we’re about to confront someone for being an Alaskan tour guide?”
Gerald: ”No man, listen to this… ‘Corey Mann is a guy to avoid. We booked our tickets on his tour three months in advance but when we arrived he was nowhere to be seen and the number we had for him had been switched off!’ Or this one… ‘It took us ages to get hold of Corey Mann who, when he did arrive, told us that the tour was cancelled due to his boat being broken’ they go on…”
Fred: ”So we’re about to confront someone for being a scam artist Alaskan tour guide?”
Gerald: ”Here’s the weird thing though, he hasn’t been seen for six weeks now and according to other tour guides in the area, that’s not like him. Even the guy he initially rents his boat off says he hasn’t been around in some time…”
Fred: ”Okay… Now you’ve piqued my interest.”
Gerald: ”Well, there’s more… You see all around Juneau, there’s been talk of a Wendigo… -“
Fred: ”Wait! Jonathan Cable’s involved in this??”
Gerald: ”What? No, where’d you get that from, Fred??”
Fred: ”You brother, you said there’s been talk of a Mandingo in the region??”
Gerald: ”No Fred, not Mandingo… Wendigo! A Wind-Walker.”
Fred: ”Ahhh…”
Fred takes another sip, Gerald does the same, smacking his lips and closing his eyes.
Gerald: ”Alright Deb, we’ve got a few hours until we reach Juneau, get your head down because this is about to be an adventure…”
Fred locks away his Rémy Martin trunk, sits back, closing his eyes as the plane continues its journey…
++++++
…The Learjet 35 rolls to a stop at Juneau International, stopping short on a runaway,away from the terminal building.
Fred and Gerald step out into the cold winter sun, hopping onto the runway with their kit bags over their shoulders.
++++++
…The Learjet 35 rolls to a stop at Juneau International, stopping short on a runaway,away from the terminal building.
Fred and Gerald step out into the cold winter sun, hopping onto the runway with their kit bags over their shoulders.
Gerald: ”You know, I figured this was going to be a challenge for us, to hunt this guy down and find out what’s going on… So, I’ve roped in some help from an old friend of yours…”
Fred: ”Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
Voice: ”Come on you pair of pratts! I’ve been waiting here for bloody hours!”
Fred doesn’t even need to look up, the smirk on his face along with the chuckle say it all. His very old friend, Abe Greenberg is standing by the gates of the airfield holding a set of car keys and behind him sits an extremely old-school Jaguar S-Type.
Fred heads toward Abe, shaking his hand and then pulling him in for a hug. He sticks his hand out for Gerald, then hugs him too.
Abe: ”Right boys… Car’s right here, Fred I’m hearing this could be something to do with John Ca-…”
Fred: ”Wendigo, Abe… Wendigo.”
Abe: ”Oh!”
Abe jumps at the sound of Fred slamming the car door and hops into the driver’s side as he guns the engine and takes off down a small path leading away from the airfield, as the scene begins to disintegrate into dust…
Missing, presumed dead…
”The Moose and Curlew” is a bar that sits just on the ridges of Elevenmile Creek, currently six miles from a state park and two miles in the opposite direction, towards a cove and the famous “Stephens Passage''. Fred and Abe are sat at a finely polished oak table, the establishment wall to wall full of photographs of big game hunters and fishermen, tucking into a plate of Yak meat and Potatoes, whilst Gerald is at the bar, having a conversation with the barman.
Fred: ”So who are you avoiding, Abraham?”
Abe: ”What? I’ve got no idea what you mean, mate?”
Fred: ”Brother, I’ve known you since we were sixteen. There’s absolutely no way in almighty hell, you’re travelling from New York to Alaska because you missed your old pal…”
Abe: ”Ok, you’ve got me. There’s drama going on in Hell’s Kitchen right now, between the Westies and the O’Brien’s, Fred I can’t be bothered with all that… So when Gerald called me and said we were going on a Mandingo hu…-“
Fred: ”Wendigo…”
Abe: ”Wendigo hunt… I jumped at the chance right away.”
Fred: ”Well, glad you’re on board man.”
Abe: ”Speaking of jumping though, Fred. What happened the other week on WGWF?”
Fred: ”What do you mean?”
Abe: ”I saw how quick you took exception to Cable, since arriving in the company and now I’m noticing others have begun to jump on the bandwagon… How are you dealing with it?”
Fred takes the last mouthful of his Yak and Potatoes and places his knife and fork on the plate, edging it to the centre of the table, then grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth.
Fred: ”You’ve seen what’s happened, Abe. As you said I’ve got Jonathan Cable trying to be the next bigshot in the WGWF and something had to be done about that, a business decision had to be made. J Mont understood and was on board but it appears that Mac Bane did not and therefore he made his bed…”
Abe: ”And what of Tristan Slater…”
Fred: ”THE Tristan Slater…”
Abe: ”My apologies… THE Tristan Slater.”
Fred: ”Well you ask what of him? I’m not sure what to tell you, hoss. I had no issue with any of these guys, least of all “THE” Tristan Slater and yet they all want to try making an example out of me? Hah! So I’m gonna turn that question on it’s head, Abe and I’m gonna ask you… What of him?”
The question flummoxes Abe and he stammers over and over until Gerald comes over carrying a tray with three shot glasses of whiskey but with something else in the glass. He sets it down and takes a seat as both Fred and Abe check out the drinks.
Gerald: ”Okay, so according to Jack over at the bar, Corey Mann was last seen leaving here and allegedly headed toward the state park up the river. We can drive but it’s apparently better to take a boat… There’s a guy named “Slim” Jim Walker who takes a trip up that way every evening around four, comes in here for a drink beforehand…”
Fred looks at his watch and sees it reads three-thirty right now. His attention is drawn back to the drinks.
Fred: ”Erm, Gerald… Aren’t these…?”
Gerald: ”Oh, yeah they are…”
Abe: ”Aren’t these only technically legal, in one hotel in Dawson City, Canada?”
Gerald: ”I guess so, but if Jack doesn’t tell, neither do I. Now drink your sour toe Cocktails gentlemen…”
All three men lift their drinks, Abe and Fred eyeing theirs up as Gerald knocks his back and we fade out slowly…
This Chronic hits hard…
The flames of the campfire lick the air as Fred’s face is illuminated behind them, he has now shed the suit and is sat on a log wearing a pair of black shorts and matching t-shirt… Both Abe and Gerald are asleep on sleeping bags, the full moon shining more light down on the camp area. He lifts his hand and we see a spliff slowly burning between his fingers, he pulls it to his lips, inhaling then blowing out smoke rings…
Fred: ”You know, Corey Mann isn’t the first person that’s gone missing in Alaska, far from it… You see where we are now in Juneau is connected to Anchorage in the west and a place on the northern border called Barrow. This area is known as “The Alaskan Triangle” and more people have gone missing here than anywhere else in the entire world… Why? Nobody knows but a lot of people put it down to the strange… The weird… The Paranormal, me? I put it down to who the hell knows and who the hell cares?! But one thing I also know, is that somebody else almost went missing recently and do you know who that was? That’s right, it was me… It was Fred Debonair. I was almost lost, but not in the traditional sense no, I almost lost myself to something far greater than the woodlands of Alaska, I almost lost myself to something far more intricate than a missing poster! That was at least until I was found and saved by one Chris Page and CCPE.
You see, when Chris pulled me aside and told me that I had far greater prospects ahead of me as someone who’d been in this business and forgotten more than I’d learned but was edging my way back in, I didn’t believe him… I’d walked into a company, alongside and just behind my own children as well as my sister and attempted to reclaim the fame that way but Page allowed me to see that they were just using me and dragging me down and showed me how to take back what I was! Who I was! And I did just that and from that point on, I held onto two belts until I decided I couldn’t be asked for one and let it go but this story belongs elsewhere, because whilst I’m fixing to destroy a little pest out there to remain the UK Champion I’ve got bigger fish to fry in WGWF, little people who’re commanding the attention of CCPE!
Let’s start with this guy “THE” Tristan Slater shall we? A man who, not unlike myself, is focused on “returning” and it looks like rebranding too! But let’s be honest Slater you just don’t have it in you anymore, do you? Not least because they found out about it and now check regularly, whether or not it is… In you. I mean don’t get me wrong Tristan, your career is nothing to sniff at obviously! You’ve held belts and you’ve competed at a higher level than most. Let's just hope you don’t… Burnout… This time around, eh?? Let’s watch and see if you can get that monkey off your back, Tristan… Is it Cold Turkey this Thanksgiving brother?? Tristan you’re one hell of a jumped up, sanctimonious shit aren’t you? The match should have been over when the bell sounded? It was! My business wasn't… I’m a prick? Oh you’ve got that right hoss, but trust me you’ve not seen what kind of prick I can be yet! I’m a coward? Well, I guess we’re gonna find out when you step into The Kingdom on Brawl… Right?”
Fred takes a puff on the spliff and inhales so deeply, he has to swallow a cough. He tilts his head in a winking acknowledgment before closing his eyes and exhaling slowly…
Fred: ”Mac… Mac Daddy, Mac Truck, the absolute Bane of my current existence in WGWF, I’m not sure what it is you think you hope to accomplish but my God you’re more self entitled and pious than Tristan is, aren’t you, you snarky little asshole! One minute I’ve got all the little back catalogue on my CCPE colleague Mac Bane and the next thing I know, Bane is snowflaking and cuck’ing out for Jonathan freaking Cable! I mean okay I get it, no… No, I actually don’t, Mac! All I’ve seen and heard from you is that nobody in CCPE would have supported what I did, but apparently everybody will support what you’re doing now… Right? Grow up Mac, this isn’t Junior High, you aren’t protecting Cable from bullies here! The man is big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself but of course as is the way, Mac Bane just had to make this about himself… Well kudos Mac because now you’ve got my full attention and you’re raising eyebrows over at CCPE as you’ve no doubt noticed with Vaughn and Flynn recently… You mentioned previously that I like to hear the sound of my own voice Mac and you’re not wrong, but trust me when I tell you that actions definitely speak louder than words and you will find that out come Monday…
And speaking of ol’ John Cable, “The Beast'' no, wait… The Glorious Mandingo Manbeast! So says “THE” Tristan Slater! The guy who looks like everybody’s favourite drunk uncle at a wedding! The guy who looks like Action Bronson if he’d been stuck in the basement of Josef Fritzl! The guy who looks like Charles Manson if he’d actually ever been released from prison and the guy who’s going to finally understand that you do not square up at the gates of The Kingdom unless you plan on doing something about it! Another one calling Fred Debonair and J Mont cowards as if that’s going to make us tuck our tail between our legs and run?! I’ve got a feeling that you still right now, aren’t sure who it is you’re dealing with brother! But don’t worry my Beastly friend you’ll soon find out, everybody will!
You see what you Jonathan, Mac not so much Tristan but the other two can fill you in, are failing to remember is this! Fred Debonair had your numbers LONG BEFORE the subsequent beatdown! Fred Debonair took you on Cable, I took on J Mont and I took on Bane and I put every single one of you on notice about who I am coming into WGWF! Joe’s known all about me for a while but for you Cable, you Mac and Tristan this is just the beginning! Monday night is upon us and along with it, your assured destruction. If you think what I did was “unsportsmanlike” or that it wouldn't be approved by others in CCPE?! Just wait until Brawl, boys, you’ve seen nothing yet…”
Fred stands, stretches and begins to walk away leaving the campfire burning as we slowly fade - to - black…
/Fin.