[Showcase/ASW] Old Friend.
Jun 3, 2017 7:47:43 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 3 more like this
Post by Doc on Jun 3, 2017 7:47:43 GMT -5
The light flickers. It looks like we are in a dingy basement somewhere, and from the back we see the silhouette outline of another man, looking on at the TV screen. He is very slightly smaller and slimmer than the previous silhouette, just enough for us to know that it is not the same person.
The end of MGK's latest promo is visible on the TV, and without turning to face the camera, the figure starts speaking.
It's only now that we notice the unmistakable gruff Scottish accent that has only belonged to one XHF superstar in history.
"Well.. this is how life turned out for us..."
The camera zooms out, so that we are still facing the back of the silhouette but are now able see, as the light flickers on for a second or two at a time, that the individual in question is living in relative squalor. A mattress with a tossed blanket lies in the corner of the room, while a table top contains nothing but a small lamp and an open box of painkillers.
"I never thought I would see the day that I saw the great MGK.. the silver tongued badass who time after time, destroyed members of the XHF roster on the mic with a throwaway line, rambling on the camera like a fucking TV critic. Is that how you spent the last ten years MGK.. lying back in front of your DVD player, watching movies with washed up actors and staying up to date on the latest in celebrity pop culture? And now your back to tell the world all this irrelevant bullshit to try and give some meaning, some context, to your worthless existence?"
The silhouette shakes his head in disgust and lets out a little grunt. He starts walking over towards the mattress and slumps down on to his ass, the mattress so low that his knees are almost at his chin as he sits. At this point, the light flickers again and stays on, suddenly we are face to face with Doc, his blue eyes piercing the camera, but the bags under his eyes making him look aged and weary.
“You see old friend… I can call you an old friend, right? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, I kicked your ass so many goddamn times I’ll call you whatever I feel like. I realized a long time ago that my life was worthless and accepted it. Yeah, it's done, I accept it. But it seems like you’ve become obsessed with trying to convince yourself that you are still someone important.”
Doc lets out a little unexpected laugh, making him seem a little crazy, a little deranged, before settling in to a long depressive sight.
“Let me tell you, old friend.. what made you someone important was an attitude you have long since lost. The MGK who didn’t need to convince anyone, let alone himself, that he was the single best athlete in the history of this great company.. that was a man to respect. The coolness, the composure, the ease at which you brushed off challenges and made even the toughest of competitors seem like easy work.. now that was MGK.”
“But things have changed, old friend… things have changed. I know what you’re feeling. It’s tough to go on with your life, day to day, clutching on to the glory of the man you once where. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this for guys like us, huh? I mean after all, we were superstars. We’re not talking about some midcard, Red Fusion style career where we were just grateful to get on TV so that we could finally break our virginity. We were loved by millions.. and I know the pain you must feel, going down to 7-Eleven every afternoon for a can of soda, and being frustrated that nobody in the store knows your name. The Hispanic woman behind the counter stares for a second and there, right there, you think she is about to say those three famous letters. M. G. K. But no.. the till opens, she takes your money, and right then your realize that nobody even recognizes you any more. From selling out shows around the globe to having to change your own tyre when your car breaks down.. who ever knew this was the afterlife of years of punishing ourselves just to earn the respect of the people?”
Doc goes to continue speaking, but then stops. For a little while, probably no longer than ten seconds or so, there is silence, his eyes dropping to the floor.
“It’s been like that for me too old friend. Years after the adrenaline and the fame fades away, the pain remains. Not only the kind that can be numbed by a fistful of pills, either. Yeah.. my body is a mess buddy.. I bet it’s the same for all of us. But what about the damage that was done to our psyche in the wars that we fought? I wonder, do those scars ever heal? I know you feel that pain too old friend.. stabbing at your like a knife you can never remove. I guess there was part of me that was bitter all this time. You see, life just isn’t the same for those of us for whom the XHF Title always remained elusive. We don’t get the same medical coverage, the same royalties on our DVD sales, the same invites to Legends dinners and chat shows. This great company has failed to take care of its warriors.. but I admit, some of the fault was my own. Let’s be honest, I had enough money to live the rest of my in comfort.. maybe not with the same comfort as a former champion, but we both know I did ok. But what about the pain, huh old friend? What about the mental pain that it cost me to push myself to limits so few can understand? When XHF folded.. there wasn’t a single knock on the door from a company psychiatrist, not a single word of advice on life after professional wrestling. That’s the reality for us.. ‘non champions’..”
“But did I deserve less than you, MGK? Did I not put my body on the line just as much as you did every fucking week? I’m sure it’s no surprise to you, Mike, to hear where all my money went. And it wasn’t on the kind of drugs you can find at the local pharmacy. People used to look at me think I was a party animal.. a drinker, a drug addict, living life to full! Go on Doc, go get ‘em Doc! Have another drink Doc! Ah fuck that guy AJ, he didn’t deserve to beat you for the title, take another line Doc! Blah blah blah until every fucking penny was gone, running from the monster that I had become. But one day every penny was gone, and the monster remained. I used to think about you sometimes.. lying here in this $80 dollar a month basement cellar, wondering how much better you were doing with all the help and support ‘champions’ like you received. But now I hear you speak and..”
“I’m not bitter at all, old friend. I can tell you’re just as troubled as I am. A shadow of the man you were.”
Suddenly, Doc’s head jolts up again, and now he is staring straight through the camera again, his lips trembling with rage as he thinks about how his life has turned out since his career came to a close.
“But in amongst all that yack yack yack Terminator this Michael Jordan that bullshit that, sorry to inform you, nobody gives a fuck about, I kept hearing my name come out your mouth.. over.. and over.. and over. Not a single mention of any of those other ‘rivals’ you ran through easier than Mongo runs through barbeque chicken at an all you can eat buffet. No mention of AJ.. Cosmo.. Spike.. I mean, let’s be honest, old friend. None of those guys were fit to lace up your boot straps, not even close. And yet.. all I hear is Doc.. Doc.. Doc.. and I realized something.. that for all the titles, for all the money and adulation I used to be jealous of.. I’ve been on your mind every bit as much as you’ve been on mine these last ten years. Because let's be honest, this isn't just about the 6-0 record I have against you, is it? This isn't about some rivalry over belts, or friendly competition."
"This was a hatred which knew no bounds."
Out of the blue, a small alarm clock that was previously out of sight of the camera begins ringing beside Doc’s bed. He grabs it, and holds it in his palms as he speaks.
“What’s that? Is that alarm clock to your career sounding off again, old friend? Take my advice. Keep my name out your mouth and stay in your own little world of yesteryear before I do what I should have done ten years ago.”
“And make sure that this time, either the sound of your voice, or the tolling bell of the demons inside my head, finishes once and for all.”
With that, Doc tosses the alarm across the room in rage, and it smashes off the wall, killing the alarm sound instantly. A second later, the light flickers again, and cuts to darkness, as we linger for a second, before the scene finally comes to a close.
"Because I can't live another day hearing both."
The end of MGK's latest promo is visible on the TV, and without turning to face the camera, the figure starts speaking.
It's only now that we notice the unmistakable gruff Scottish accent that has only belonged to one XHF superstar in history.
"Well.. this is how life turned out for us..."
The camera zooms out, so that we are still facing the back of the silhouette but are now able see, as the light flickers on for a second or two at a time, that the individual in question is living in relative squalor. A mattress with a tossed blanket lies in the corner of the room, while a table top contains nothing but a small lamp and an open box of painkillers.
"I never thought I would see the day that I saw the great MGK.. the silver tongued badass who time after time, destroyed members of the XHF roster on the mic with a throwaway line, rambling on the camera like a fucking TV critic. Is that how you spent the last ten years MGK.. lying back in front of your DVD player, watching movies with washed up actors and staying up to date on the latest in celebrity pop culture? And now your back to tell the world all this irrelevant bullshit to try and give some meaning, some context, to your worthless existence?"
The silhouette shakes his head in disgust and lets out a little grunt. He starts walking over towards the mattress and slumps down on to his ass, the mattress so low that his knees are almost at his chin as he sits. At this point, the light flickers again and stays on, suddenly we are face to face with Doc, his blue eyes piercing the camera, but the bags under his eyes making him look aged and weary.
“You see old friend… I can call you an old friend, right? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, I kicked your ass so many goddamn times I’ll call you whatever I feel like. I realized a long time ago that my life was worthless and accepted it. Yeah, it's done, I accept it. But it seems like you’ve become obsessed with trying to convince yourself that you are still someone important.”
Doc lets out a little unexpected laugh, making him seem a little crazy, a little deranged, before settling in to a long depressive sight.
“Let me tell you, old friend.. what made you someone important was an attitude you have long since lost. The MGK who didn’t need to convince anyone, let alone himself, that he was the single best athlete in the history of this great company.. that was a man to respect. The coolness, the composure, the ease at which you brushed off challenges and made even the toughest of competitors seem like easy work.. now that was MGK.”
“But things have changed, old friend… things have changed. I know what you’re feeling. It’s tough to go on with your life, day to day, clutching on to the glory of the man you once where. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this for guys like us, huh? I mean after all, we were superstars. We’re not talking about some midcard, Red Fusion style career where we were just grateful to get on TV so that we could finally break our virginity. We were loved by millions.. and I know the pain you must feel, going down to 7-Eleven every afternoon for a can of soda, and being frustrated that nobody in the store knows your name. The Hispanic woman behind the counter stares for a second and there, right there, you think she is about to say those three famous letters. M. G. K. But no.. the till opens, she takes your money, and right then your realize that nobody even recognizes you any more. From selling out shows around the globe to having to change your own tyre when your car breaks down.. who ever knew this was the afterlife of years of punishing ourselves just to earn the respect of the people?”
Doc goes to continue speaking, but then stops. For a little while, probably no longer than ten seconds or so, there is silence, his eyes dropping to the floor.
“It’s been like that for me too old friend. Years after the adrenaline and the fame fades away, the pain remains. Not only the kind that can be numbed by a fistful of pills, either. Yeah.. my body is a mess buddy.. I bet it’s the same for all of us. But what about the damage that was done to our psyche in the wars that we fought? I wonder, do those scars ever heal? I know you feel that pain too old friend.. stabbing at your like a knife you can never remove. I guess there was part of me that was bitter all this time. You see, life just isn’t the same for those of us for whom the XHF Title always remained elusive. We don’t get the same medical coverage, the same royalties on our DVD sales, the same invites to Legends dinners and chat shows. This great company has failed to take care of its warriors.. but I admit, some of the fault was my own. Let’s be honest, I had enough money to live the rest of my in comfort.. maybe not with the same comfort as a former champion, but we both know I did ok. But what about the pain, huh old friend? What about the mental pain that it cost me to push myself to limits so few can understand? When XHF folded.. there wasn’t a single knock on the door from a company psychiatrist, not a single word of advice on life after professional wrestling. That’s the reality for us.. ‘non champions’..”
“But did I deserve less than you, MGK? Did I not put my body on the line just as much as you did every fucking week? I’m sure it’s no surprise to you, Mike, to hear where all my money went. And it wasn’t on the kind of drugs you can find at the local pharmacy. People used to look at me think I was a party animal.. a drinker, a drug addict, living life to full! Go on Doc, go get ‘em Doc! Have another drink Doc! Ah fuck that guy AJ, he didn’t deserve to beat you for the title, take another line Doc! Blah blah blah until every fucking penny was gone, running from the monster that I had become. But one day every penny was gone, and the monster remained. I used to think about you sometimes.. lying here in this $80 dollar a month basement cellar, wondering how much better you were doing with all the help and support ‘champions’ like you received. But now I hear you speak and..”
“I’m not bitter at all, old friend. I can tell you’re just as troubled as I am. A shadow of the man you were.”
Suddenly, Doc’s head jolts up again, and now he is staring straight through the camera again, his lips trembling with rage as he thinks about how his life has turned out since his career came to a close.
“But in amongst all that yack yack yack Terminator this Michael Jordan that bullshit that, sorry to inform you, nobody gives a fuck about, I kept hearing my name come out your mouth.. over.. and over.. and over. Not a single mention of any of those other ‘rivals’ you ran through easier than Mongo runs through barbeque chicken at an all you can eat buffet. No mention of AJ.. Cosmo.. Spike.. I mean, let’s be honest, old friend. None of those guys were fit to lace up your boot straps, not even close. And yet.. all I hear is Doc.. Doc.. Doc.. and I realized something.. that for all the titles, for all the money and adulation I used to be jealous of.. I’ve been on your mind every bit as much as you’ve been on mine these last ten years. Because let's be honest, this isn't just about the 6-0 record I have against you, is it? This isn't about some rivalry over belts, or friendly competition."
"This was a hatred which knew no bounds."
Out of the blue, a small alarm clock that was previously out of sight of the camera begins ringing beside Doc’s bed. He grabs it, and holds it in his palms as he speaks.
“What’s that? Is that alarm clock to your career sounding off again, old friend? Take my advice. Keep my name out your mouth and stay in your own little world of yesteryear before I do what I should have done ten years ago.”
“And make sure that this time, either the sound of your voice, or the tolling bell of the demons inside my head, finishes once and for all.”
With that, Doc tosses the alarm across the room in rage, and it smashes off the wall, killing the alarm sound instantly. A second later, the light flickers again, and cuts to darkness, as we linger for a second, before the scene finally comes to a close.
"Because I can't live another day hearing both."
