[Showcase/ASW] Choose Life.
Jun 4, 2017 7:03:17 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 1 more like this
Post by Doc on Jun 4, 2017 7:03:17 GMT -5
He pushes the 'end call' button, puts the phone down on the desk and makes his way towards the bathroom. Pulling the light cord beside the mirror, the light comes on after a second, and he stares back at himself with disgust. He rubs his hand along his chin, feeling the sharp, unkempt hairs of his beard. He then runs the cold water tap and catches it in his hands, splashing the water against his face.
He pulls the cord again, killing the lights and heads back towards the mattress, folding down on it with a groan and lying on his back.
Sorry, she said.
She doesn’t have to apologize. For almost seven years, Doc hasn’t heard a word from his sister, Tara. But he doesn’t blame her. Why would he? She’s had a family to raise, and why would she want a deranged junkie around her kids?
But now he’s sober, maybe everything is starting to piece back together. Maybe he just needs to prove to everyone that he’s back to normal, free from the shackles of his past, and slowly but surely..
He slams a fist down on the mattress. Tara was right, of course, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. Of course MGK is desperate to fight him, why wouldn't he be? MGK is arguably the best wrestler in history, and yet the only man he couldn’t beat, time after time.. was Doc. There’s nothing MGK would love more than one last chance to finally bury that sole blemish on his record for good, and what better time to do it than now, against the washed up, broken down man that Doc had become?
And of course, that is music to Doc’s ears. It’s not that he wants this fight. He needs this fight. He and MGK have sold out arenas all over the world.. and one last match against his old enemy would provide him the financial security he needs to get himself up out this shithole basement and..
He slams his fist down on the mattress again. Tara was right, of course, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about it.
There was only way to get his life back on track, and that involved meeting with a man he hated almost as much as MGK.
We cut to Mongo’s office at XHF HQ in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Mongo is by his desk, turned side on to the camera and facing his computer screen when Doc enters the room. A huge security guard stands either side of Mongo’s desk – not because Mongo is scared of Doc, but because he isn’t stupid enough to be caught with his guard down again someone so eccentric, especially with the past these two have shared. As he notices the doors open, Mongo’s head spins towards Doc and motions with his arm for him to come over. You feel the tension in the air at the first face to face encounter these men have shared in almost a decade. For most people, Doc hates Mongo because Mongo screwed him out of the XHF Title and held him down in the company for years, but make no mistake. Mongo hated Doc too. After all, this is someone who split and started a rival federation which ultimately contributed to the downfall of the Xtreme Hardcore Federation.
“Ahhh, Mr Dockovich, please, come in!”
Doc keeps a blank stare as he proceeds towards the chair across the desk from Mongo, pulling it out and slumping down on it.
“Docherty.”
“Dockhertie?”
“Docherty.”
“Goddamnit Doc.. all these years and I still can’t pronounce that name! What is it with you Welsh people and your silly names anyway?”
“Scotti-“
“Anyway, good to see you! Great timing, I was actually just looking at something really interesting.”
Mongo motions towards the monitor beside his desk, which has the following image on the screen:
“Business is good huh?”
Doc is responding, but his facial expression never changes, clearly uninterested in any of the small talk to he has to go through with Mongo.
“Oh no, that’s not my place. It’s actually Red Fusion’s, I just read an article about it on the LA Times. Did you know it has 12 bathroo-“
“Wait, what? Red Fusion? Red Fusion as in the midcarder Red Fusion?”
There is a tense pause. Mongo looks at the security guard on his left, giving him a ‘guess I have to break the bad news’ kind of look.
“Well, as it would happen Doc, a lot changed while you were slipping in to a 5 year drug-induced coma. Which by the way, I’m so glad to see you’ve overcome. I mean really, when I saw those pictures in the newspaper of how you looked when you were taken in to rehab, I had serious concerns for your health. But you look great now. So much better! Doesn’t he look better?”
Mongo looks at the security guard, who is still staring straight ahead at the wall, never moving an inch or responding.
“So much better. Well, anyway… while you were all messed up on the drugs and stuff, Red Fusion just happened to become the biggest action movie star in Hollywood. Here, let me show you..”
Mongo types away quickly on his computer and loads up another image:
“Well, wouldn’t you know? It looks like everyone around here is an expert on acting these days.”
“Heh.. so.. anyway. You must be thirsty, can I get you a drink? Let me get you a drink.”
Mongo pushes the button on his phone which connects to his secretary.
“Bonnie, bring in the champagne. The finest champagne we have! Nothing but the best!”
Doc goes to speak but before he can say anything the doors behind him swing open, and Mongo’s secretary, Bonnie Jenkins, brings in a bucket of champagne on ice and two glasses which she leaves on Mongo’s desk before turning and leaving again. Doc squints his eyes for a second… Bonnie entered the room with the champagne suspiciously quickly, almost as if it had been pre-planned…
“Thanks Bonnie. Here Doc, have a – ohhh, how could I forget! You’re sober now! Damn, I was really looking forward to having a drink with an old friend.”
Mongo shrugs and chugs the champagne from the bottle anyway, letting a little dribble down his chin as Doc remains poker faced and unimpressed at the whole charade.
“Well, let’s get down to business. I know why you’re here Doc! And I’m so glad to have you back begging for your job- eh, I mean, begging for a chance to get in to the ring with MGK one last time! That is why you stopped by, right Doc? Because you want to face MGK?”
“I think you know exactly why I’m here, Mongo, so why don’t we cut the bullshit and get to the point.”
“Ah, as business-like as always! That’s the attitude that took you so far in this company. That great X*Crown reign of.. what was it, one month? Two months? Ah shit, just can’t seem to remember much about that reign at all. Anyway, Doc and MGK! Two legends of the XHF, going at it once last time! It’s what the people want Doc, and who am I to deny the people? But before we get to that.. we just have to get to the small matter of finances...”
Mongo fiddles around under his desk for a moment, pretending he doesn’t already have all the paperwork laid out in front of him.
“Ah yes, here we are! So Doc, here’s the thing. We all really want this match to go ahead. But there’s just no way MGK is going to agree to a 50/50 split in profits on this fight. But if you give me a day or two, let me negotiate around a little with his lawyers.. well, Mike’s a reasonable guy. I’m sure we can get it to 60/40, in his favour.”
“Cut the crap Mongo you fat fuck. Why would I agree to 60/40 split against a man who I’ve beaten half a dozen times?”
“Whoa, easy tiger. Listen Doc, this isn’t my doing. It’s just business. See, this is how things work. MGK is the bigger draw. He’s a former XHF Champion, after all. But not only that, these past 5 years every newspaper in the country has covered how you overdosed and blew every penny you had. I mean, that’s just not the kind of role model parents are after. You’re no longer the ‘boyhood dream’ Doc.. people think you’re washed up. Now MGK.. MGK is still a huge draw. Did I mention he’s a former XHF Champion? So given the circumstances, I think 60/40 is a fair split.”
“Ok, whatever Mongo. 60/40, whatever, I don’t care. Just give me the contract so I can sign it and get out of here. The smell of your nutsack coming from that security guard’s mouth is giving me the creeps.”
The security guard just stares at the wall ahead, motionless, not even blinking.
“Well.. there was just one other thing.. out of your 40%.. I’m going to need 75% of that, as an insurance policy.”
“Forget it.”
Doc, who has clearly had enough of Mongo’s taunting, goes to stand up from the chair and make his way out when the security guards on either side pin him back down to the seat.
“Now now Doc, at least here me out. If you really don’t want to sign it, fine. You can go, and the match is off. But think about it for a second. What other company in the world is going to sign off on a match like this? I mean, think about your medical history.. broken neck, replaced knee cap, history of mental illness and drug abuse.. do you know much that costs us in insurance? There isn’t another wrestling company on the planet who would give you a license to step in to the ring against someone like MGK. But I want to help you Doc, I really do. This fight is going to be huge.. and with your slice of the pie, which is..”
Mongo tries to work out 25% of 40%.
“Uhhh.. I’ll check with Bonnie later. Anyway, with your slice of the pie, you can pay off those debts, put a deposit down on a real apartment, and get your life back on track. Try not to think of it as money you're losing Doc – think of it as a charitable donation. A contribution to this company for all the trouble you caused over the years. I know your memory is likely a little.. sketchy.. from that time in your life. But take it from me, you weren’t winning any popularity contests backstage. In fact, you were just a straight up asshole Doc. So don’t think of it as being ripped off, think of it as.. absolution! But how about this – you don’t just get your slice of the money with this fight. You sign the contract, and I promise you all the access to the medical staff, the psychiatrists, the after-wrestling career planners that you need. One match, and we’re even.”
Mongo extends his hand across the desk.
“So I sign the contract, and I get all the support you’ve been denying me all these years? What makes you think I’d trust you for a second?”
Mongo withdraws his hand, realizing Doc isn’t going to shake.
“Well.. you don’t really have any choice here Dockovich. You either sign the contract, have one last hurrah in the public eye, and get your life back on track… or… well, you go back to whatever the hell you’ve been doing these past couple of years since you lost all your money and got sober.”
“Just send me the fucking contract.”
A huge grin comes across Mongo’s face for a second, which he of course wipes off quickly, trying his best to look business-like. Doc gets up from the chair and makes his way towards the door, when Mongo’s voice makes him turn back once again.
“Oh, one last thing Doc.. did you notice the picture on the wall? Such an iconic moment in XHF history.”
Mongo motions to a framed picture hanging on the wall. AJ Phoenix is on top of Doc, pinning him as the referee counts the pin beside them.
Of course, Doc doesn’t need reminded of what night this was. The night that he was screwed out of the XHF Title by Mongo himself.
“Very cute. Tell me Mongo.. since we’re even and all. At least admit that you had the referee make a fast count that night just because you hated me.”
“Doc, Doc, Doc… how long have we known each other? You know I can’t comment on anything which may or may not affect the reputation of this great organization. Now make sure you get a shave and hit the gym, one week until your big comeback!”
Mongo smiles and shoots Doc a wink. Doc, clearly disgusted, spits on the floor of Mongo’s office and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.
At least ten seconds passes where Mongo waits to make sure Doc is fully clear of the area before the huge grin comes over his face again as he presses the intercom button on his phone.
“Bonnie! Get MGK’s lawyer on the phone! It’s time to celebrate!”
He releases the intercom button, swigging from the bottle of champagne on his desk and laughing to himself as the scene finally fades to black.
He pulls the cord again, killing the lights and heads back towards the mattress, folding down on it with a groan and lying on his back.
Sorry, she said.
She doesn’t have to apologize. For almost seven years, Doc hasn’t heard a word from his sister, Tara. But he doesn’t blame her. Why would he? She’s had a family to raise, and why would she want a deranged junkie around her kids?
But now he’s sober, maybe everything is starting to piece back together. Maybe he just needs to prove to everyone that he’s back to normal, free from the shackles of his past, and slowly but surely..
He slams a fist down on the mattress. Tara was right, of course, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. Of course MGK is desperate to fight him, why wouldn't he be? MGK is arguably the best wrestler in history, and yet the only man he couldn’t beat, time after time.. was Doc. There’s nothing MGK would love more than one last chance to finally bury that sole blemish on his record for good, and what better time to do it than now, against the washed up, broken down man that Doc had become?
And of course, that is music to Doc’s ears. It’s not that he wants this fight. He needs this fight. He and MGK have sold out arenas all over the world.. and one last match against his old enemy would provide him the financial security he needs to get himself up out this shithole basement and..
He slams his fist down on the mattress again. Tara was right, of course, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about it.
There was only way to get his life back on track, and that involved meeting with a man he hated almost as much as MGK.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
We cut to Mongo’s office at XHF HQ in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Mongo is by his desk, turned side on to the camera and facing his computer screen when Doc enters the room. A huge security guard stands either side of Mongo’s desk – not because Mongo is scared of Doc, but because he isn’t stupid enough to be caught with his guard down again someone so eccentric, especially with the past these two have shared. As he notices the doors open, Mongo’s head spins towards Doc and motions with his arm for him to come over. You feel the tension in the air at the first face to face encounter these men have shared in almost a decade. For most people, Doc hates Mongo because Mongo screwed him out of the XHF Title and held him down in the company for years, but make no mistake. Mongo hated Doc too. After all, this is someone who split and started a rival federation which ultimately contributed to the downfall of the Xtreme Hardcore Federation.
“Ahhh, Mr Dockovich, please, come in!”
Doc keeps a blank stare as he proceeds towards the chair across the desk from Mongo, pulling it out and slumping down on it.
“Docherty.”
“Dockhertie?”
“Docherty.”
“Goddamnit Doc.. all these years and I still can’t pronounce that name! What is it with you Welsh people and your silly names anyway?”
“Scotti-“
“Anyway, good to see you! Great timing, I was actually just looking at something really interesting.”
Mongo motions towards the monitor beside his desk, which has the following image on the screen:
“Business is good huh?”
Doc is responding, but his facial expression never changes, clearly uninterested in any of the small talk to he has to go through with Mongo.
“Oh no, that’s not my place. It’s actually Red Fusion’s, I just read an article about it on the LA Times. Did you know it has 12 bathroo-“
“Wait, what? Red Fusion? Red Fusion as in the midcarder Red Fusion?”
There is a tense pause. Mongo looks at the security guard on his left, giving him a ‘guess I have to break the bad news’ kind of look.
“Well, as it would happen Doc, a lot changed while you were slipping in to a 5 year drug-induced coma. Which by the way, I’m so glad to see you’ve overcome. I mean really, when I saw those pictures in the newspaper of how you looked when you were taken in to rehab, I had serious concerns for your health. But you look great now. So much better! Doesn’t he look better?”
Mongo looks at the security guard, who is still staring straight ahead at the wall, never moving an inch or responding.
“So much better. Well, anyway… while you were all messed up on the drugs and stuff, Red Fusion just happened to become the biggest action movie star in Hollywood. Here, let me show you..”
Mongo types away quickly on his computer and loads up another image:
“Well, wouldn’t you know? It looks like everyone around here is an expert on acting these days.”
“Heh.. so.. anyway. You must be thirsty, can I get you a drink? Let me get you a drink.”
Mongo pushes the button on his phone which connects to his secretary.
“Bonnie, bring in the champagne. The finest champagne we have! Nothing but the best!”
Doc goes to speak but before he can say anything the doors behind him swing open, and Mongo’s secretary, Bonnie Jenkins, brings in a bucket of champagne on ice and two glasses which she leaves on Mongo’s desk before turning and leaving again. Doc squints his eyes for a second… Bonnie entered the room with the champagne suspiciously quickly, almost as if it had been pre-planned…
“Thanks Bonnie. Here Doc, have a – ohhh, how could I forget! You’re sober now! Damn, I was really looking forward to having a drink with an old friend.”
Mongo shrugs and chugs the champagne from the bottle anyway, letting a little dribble down his chin as Doc remains poker faced and unimpressed at the whole charade.
“Well, let’s get down to business. I know why you’re here Doc! And I’m so glad to have you back begging for your job- eh, I mean, begging for a chance to get in to the ring with MGK one last time! That is why you stopped by, right Doc? Because you want to face MGK?”
“I think you know exactly why I’m here, Mongo, so why don’t we cut the bullshit and get to the point.”
“Ah, as business-like as always! That’s the attitude that took you so far in this company. That great X*Crown reign of.. what was it, one month? Two months? Ah shit, just can’t seem to remember much about that reign at all. Anyway, Doc and MGK! Two legends of the XHF, going at it once last time! It’s what the people want Doc, and who am I to deny the people? But before we get to that.. we just have to get to the small matter of finances...”
Mongo fiddles around under his desk for a moment, pretending he doesn’t already have all the paperwork laid out in front of him.
“Ah yes, here we are! So Doc, here’s the thing. We all really want this match to go ahead. But there’s just no way MGK is going to agree to a 50/50 split in profits on this fight. But if you give me a day or two, let me negotiate around a little with his lawyers.. well, Mike’s a reasonable guy. I’m sure we can get it to 60/40, in his favour.”
“Cut the crap Mongo you fat fuck. Why would I agree to 60/40 split against a man who I’ve beaten half a dozen times?”
“Whoa, easy tiger. Listen Doc, this isn’t my doing. It’s just business. See, this is how things work. MGK is the bigger draw. He’s a former XHF Champion, after all. But not only that, these past 5 years every newspaper in the country has covered how you overdosed and blew every penny you had. I mean, that’s just not the kind of role model parents are after. You’re no longer the ‘boyhood dream’ Doc.. people think you’re washed up. Now MGK.. MGK is still a huge draw. Did I mention he’s a former XHF Champion? So given the circumstances, I think 60/40 is a fair split.”
“Ok, whatever Mongo. 60/40, whatever, I don’t care. Just give me the contract so I can sign it and get out of here. The smell of your nutsack coming from that security guard’s mouth is giving me the creeps.”
The security guard just stares at the wall ahead, motionless, not even blinking.
“Well.. there was just one other thing.. out of your 40%.. I’m going to need 75% of that, as an insurance policy.”
“Forget it.”
Doc, who has clearly had enough of Mongo’s taunting, goes to stand up from the chair and make his way out when the security guards on either side pin him back down to the seat.
“Now now Doc, at least here me out. If you really don’t want to sign it, fine. You can go, and the match is off. But think about it for a second. What other company in the world is going to sign off on a match like this? I mean, think about your medical history.. broken neck, replaced knee cap, history of mental illness and drug abuse.. do you know much that costs us in insurance? There isn’t another wrestling company on the planet who would give you a license to step in to the ring against someone like MGK. But I want to help you Doc, I really do. This fight is going to be huge.. and with your slice of the pie, which is..”
Mongo tries to work out 25% of 40%.
“Uhhh.. I’ll check with Bonnie later. Anyway, with your slice of the pie, you can pay off those debts, put a deposit down on a real apartment, and get your life back on track. Try not to think of it as money you're losing Doc – think of it as a charitable donation. A contribution to this company for all the trouble you caused over the years. I know your memory is likely a little.. sketchy.. from that time in your life. But take it from me, you weren’t winning any popularity contests backstage. In fact, you were just a straight up asshole Doc. So don’t think of it as being ripped off, think of it as.. absolution! But how about this – you don’t just get your slice of the money with this fight. You sign the contract, and I promise you all the access to the medical staff, the psychiatrists, the after-wrestling career planners that you need. One match, and we’re even.”
Mongo extends his hand across the desk.
“So I sign the contract, and I get all the support you’ve been denying me all these years? What makes you think I’d trust you for a second?”
Mongo withdraws his hand, realizing Doc isn’t going to shake.
“Well.. you don’t really have any choice here Dockovich. You either sign the contract, have one last hurrah in the public eye, and get your life back on track… or… well, you go back to whatever the hell you’ve been doing these past couple of years since you lost all your money and got sober.”
“Just send me the fucking contract.”
A huge grin comes across Mongo’s face for a second, which he of course wipes off quickly, trying his best to look business-like. Doc gets up from the chair and makes his way towards the door, when Mongo’s voice makes him turn back once again.
“Oh, one last thing Doc.. did you notice the picture on the wall? Such an iconic moment in XHF history.”
Mongo motions to a framed picture hanging on the wall. AJ Phoenix is on top of Doc, pinning him as the referee counts the pin beside them.
Of course, Doc doesn’t need reminded of what night this was. The night that he was screwed out of the XHF Title by Mongo himself.
“Very cute. Tell me Mongo.. since we’re even and all. At least admit that you had the referee make a fast count that night just because you hated me.”
“Doc, Doc, Doc… how long have we known each other? You know I can’t comment on anything which may or may not affect the reputation of this great organization. Now make sure you get a shave and hit the gym, one week until your big comeback!”
Mongo smiles and shoots Doc a wink. Doc, clearly disgusted, spits on the floor of Mongo’s office and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.
At least ten seconds passes where Mongo waits to make sure Doc is fully clear of the area before the huge grin comes over his face again as he presses the intercom button on his phone.
“Bonnie! Get MGK’s lawyer on the phone! It’s time to celebrate!”
He releases the intercom button, swigging from the bottle of champagne on his desk and laughing to himself as the scene finally fades to black.
