| **The scene opens to find Rob Osbourne sitting in the hotel room his wife has paid for near Aloha Stadium. He is on the phone having a very heated discussion about the recent goings-on at Osbourne, Inc.**
NRO: Ernie...listen to me, I don't care what Frost says. I am telling you by the end of next month he will be the one on the streets peniless. You are the only one that can put this plan together.....YES....that's what I've been trying to tell you all along. Between the two of them, all I need is 2%. Christ, for 1% more effort as Keith Daniels puts into training for a match I can regain control of my company.....yeah, I did....HA!....that was great. I'll have to remember that one....no no, they're all fine. Christina? Oh she's here. In fact, I hear the door now.... **His wife walks in the door to their suite with a Starbucks in each hand. He looks at her oddly...** NRO: ....listen Ernie, I'm gonna have to call you back man. (hangs up phone) What the fuck is that? Christina: A Venti Caramel Macchiato Latte. NRO: A whothefuckwhat? Christina: A Venti Caramel Macc.... NRO: I FUCKING HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME! **Osbourne walks over to the mini fridge, opens it and grabs a Heineken and pops the top.** Christina: Fuck you asshole. NRO: Is that right? I can't fucking win this week. The whole fuckin world's against me man! Christina: Oh grow up. Somebody one upped you and threw you off balance. Deal with it. Quit whining like a little Jennifer Adams. You sound like Keith Daniels. NRO: How do YOU know what Keith Daniels sounds like?!? Christina: Oh don't even, prick. I happen to own and run Pro Wrestling Network. Have you bothered to get off the phone long enough to know that he has fianlly reared his ugly head and has said some very unflattering things about you? NRO: No. No I haven't. I've been a little pre-occupied trying to get my fucking company back. Chrstina, if you haven't noticed, a multi-national company with a net worth of eleven billion dollars was just hijacked out from under me and I am having to live like...like...like..... Chrstina: A normal person? NRO: Well, yeah, if you wanna be a Jennifer Adams about it! I grew up living like that. I told myself I would never EVER live like that again. What the fuck I am I going to do? Chrstina: Rob, it's not like we don't have money... NRO: No, YOU have money...I have shit until I figure this out. Chrstina: Is that right? NRO: Don't be a fucking cunt about it. You know what I mean. Chrstina: Yes. I do. You know what? I didn't have to come "rescue" you from three days on the sofa in your dressing room, eating catering food. I didn't have to give you MY credit card or MY money as you put it. I didn't have to buy you this...the least you could do is NOT be a smart ass ungrateful dick about it. I'll see you after your match. Have fun. **She dumps the coffee in the trash and slams the door behind her. Rob heaves a defeated sigh and his head drops into his hands. He runs his hand back through his hair, which at the moment is not pulled into some sort of pony tail, a rarity in and of itself. He leans back in the arm chair and swigs the Heineken. He pulls out his cell phone and almost dials his wife's number, but decides against it; Christina Danky-Osbourne is not a woman who cools down quickly when she's pissed off. He has the scars to prove it. He instead pulls up YouTube on his iPhone and looks up the video for Pink's "Please don't leave me" cuts and pastes the URL and pastes it on Christina's Facebook wall. Minutes later he gets a text telling him he's a dumbshit, and he made her cry and she was leaving on the red eye back to Orlando and she hates watching him in person anyway and she will see him Monday. He smiles; misison accomplished. He flips on the TV to PWN and catches the verbal diahrea from Keith Daniels and Brian Adams both. He turns the set off, disgusted, and immediately flips on his uplink from his laptop to the PWN studios and cuts a promo for Summer Smash.** NRO: So Keith Daniels says I regurgitate his words does he? Well Keith...FUCK OFF. No one cares what you think. Seriously. I'm not making this shit up. I have taken an official scientific poll and 9 out of 10 people think you're a douche. The other one person still thinks you're a douche, but they mistake you with Keith Richards from the Rolling Stones. For this we apologize to Keith Richards. Honestly speaking though Keith, there isn't anything you have said that I didn't say 15 years ago mate. That's the great thing about this sport. All of us always say the same thing match to match, arena to arena, pay per view to pay per view. You don't like me. I don't like you. We're going to talk shit, then fight and only one of us will remain standing. One winner, one loser. That's sort of the way it's supposed to work Keith. It just so happens that EVERY time I am in the match and in the ring when it ends...I'm the victor. It doesn't matter if it's Pledge, Magnus, Blair, Jericho, Maniac, Z-Pac, MVP, or You. I WILL win. Make no mistake about it. I think that is the primary difference that separates you and I Chief. I don't THINK I can beat you. I KNOW I WILL beat you. You may in fact become the next CWF National Champion, but that will only happen if it gets put up in a tournament because Xamin makes me vacate this title after I win the World Heavyweight Championship. That, my very young apprentice, is the ONLY way in hell you will be the National Champion. That or kill me. Literally. Because as long as there is breath left in my lungs and blood pumping through my veins, I'm still the btter man. I would say that even on my worst day and you on your best, I'm better than you, but then you'll tell me I'm stealin your lines again. But I digress. I won't fall into your little trap. You ARE lost. For the first time in your bright and illustrious career, albeit one mired in mediocrity and blown opportunities, you are at a true loss for words. You have just finally come to the realization that you have in fact bitten off more than you can chew hauss. Every time you think you have the answer, I change the questions. I am the master of one upsmanship dick head. You dump piss on me, and we let Xamin tell the FCC it's apple juice, I agree not to sue, and in exchange I get to dump 50 gallons of not just semen...but any number of waste bi-product at the laboratories me and Junior raided. You see, in a place like that, they do their collections, if you will, of stool samples, urines samples, hair folical samples, blood samples...and mostly, as one half of the actual facility is a Sperm Bank, they have analyzed and rejected semen. We dump 50 gallons of that nasty shit on you guys, after my nephew feeds you baked brownies of his own shit, and Xamin again lies to the FCC and tells them it was hand sanitizer and chocolate brownies. We all know the truth. So you pay your little look alike to dress in a Leprachaun oufit and carry his Lucky Sperm. I know it's all you've got coming to mind. I understand. Your stuck up against a brick wall and don't know where to turn next. You KNOW you can't go forwards. Well...you will try. This Saturday at Summer Smash. But try as you might, it just won't be enough Keith. You'll run full on into this brick wall I call Me. I hope you are strapped in and ready for the ride kid. It's gonna be a bumpy one. I don't want you to get the wrong idea pimpin. I don't think, by any means that this will be a walk in the park. I fully expect to wak away from this with new scars to show. I also expect to bleed. Allot. You should as well. It's going to be very VERY brutal. You see, I intend to take you to school. We will pay homage to the men that have come before us. I know you don't think very highly of the men who paved the way for you to be in that ring half assing it every week, but for the record I would like to read a listing of names to you... 'Hotshot' Mike Stewart, "Studly" Steve Dart, "Golden One" Jeff Jericho, Jimmy Blast, "The Ruler" Paul Blair, Z-Pac, Mike Van Pro, Pledge Alligence, Brian Adams, Nemesis, Jimmy Luciano, T-Money, WildCard, Evil Andu, Chemical X, Astro, and The Juggernaut What do these men have in common, aside from all being beaten by me, most of them on multiple occasions? They have all been CWF Champions. Can you say you have handed the men on that list their asses Mr. Daniels? I don't think so. And don't even come back with that fucking lame shit about me not being able to do it now. Three or four of those men I have beaten recently. I'm going to add your name to that list this Saturday Keith. Of course, like your CWF championship history, it'll have an asterisk by it as well. See you soon. Real soon. **Osbourne switches off the uplink. He grabs a pair of Heinekens and steps out onto the balcony overlooking the golf course. He stretches out in a hammock and downs the first Heineken and then the second. He lays back and drifts off to sleep. What seems like only minutes later he is awoken by the vibration of his iPhone. He glances at the display before answering it and notices it is 8 hours later. He then sees the caller is Health Central, a hospital in Ocoee, Florida, the neaighboring town to Windermere. He answers the call and his face goes white and blank. The nurse on the other end informs him his wife has been in a pretty bad car wreck as she was heading home. She is on her way to the hospital via ambulance and will need surgery. He gives them verbal consent and then he calls the airport and charters a private jet to fly directly to Florida. 7 hours later he arrives at Health Central's Emergency Room. he asks the charge nurse about his wife and is told she is still in surgery to have a seat and they would call him when they knew something. He looks around the waiting room and begins weighing his seating choice options. On the left is a mid fifties Haitian woman in an ill fitting tattered dress having some sort of seizure in her wheelchair with her muff all sticking out looking nasty. In the middle area is a drunken shirtless white crack head redneck who has burnt both of his hands dropping a turkey into a deep fryer and then grabbing it when it bounced back up. To the right in the front is an older black woman whose ass looks like she has two midgets tucked under skirt sitting on her real ass cheeks, knitting next o a 13 or 14 year old boy who is half asleep. When the triage nurse asked them why they were here, the boy's grandmother simply stated "'Cause his head hurt" Finally, in the back on the right is a arge family. A mother, father, and four young kids varying in age. One of the children, a red haired boy of no more than 8 years of age is sitting next to his mother, who is holding a wash cloth to his mouth, which is pouring blood into a bus pan beneath. Rob takes a double take and realizes the father is the guy that sold him his GT500...David Lee. He decides he will make some small talk with them while he waits. Familar faces and all that.** NRO: David? DL: Mr. Osbourne? Oldest Son: Holy friggin crap, mom he wasn't lying... it's The Nitemare....and he knows dad's name!!! DL: David, chill out. I told you Mr. Osbourne bought a car from me. Don't be rude. NRO: No man, really, it's okay. Comes with the territory. What happened? DL: Oh man. Jacob did a swan dive from about six and a half feet onto the concrete floor. Busted out about 5 teeth, blood everywhere. He's a trooper though. NRO: Wow man, he isn't crying at all? DL: Well, he's Autistic, so he's not like everybody else. He cried for a few minutes, but he's tough as nails. NRO: Six and a half feet is pretty far. Is he gonna be okay? DL: Dunno. We've been here for forty five minutes and no one has even checke don us, offered anything to rinse the kids mouth out, or anything. This wash cloth we brought in is so saturated with blood, it looks like something the medics will have Saturday night when you destroy Keith Daniels in Hawaii. Which, by the way, why are YOU here? NRO: I was in Hawaii seven hours ago. My wife was in a wreck on maguire and they brought her here. She's in surgery. Drunken White Redneck: How the hell did she get into surgery? I been here for five hours and I ain't even been spoken to yet. God damn Death Central if ya ask me. NRO: Yeah, well, I didn't. Drunken White Redneck: I don't need this shit, i was a Marine! Semper Fi!!! **The man starts running through the ER waving his hands, tucking and rolling like he's hunting Charlie in the bush. Lee's kids are cracking up at the antics and Secutiry wuickly comes and removes the man.** Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Crazy ass white man. He was crazy. Did you see how crazy he was? That was crazy!! NRO: How crazy was it? Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: C-R-A-Z-Y CRAZY! Triage Nurse: Travian Smith....Travian Smith? Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Oh that's my grandbaby! Triage Nurse: And Travian is here because he has head trauma? Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Yeah...his head hurt. Triage Nurse: Ma'am, do you mean he has a headache? Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass:: Yeah. NRO: This is fucking bullshit. Triage Nurse: Excuse me? **All eyes in the ER shift to Osbourne, who is on his feet walking towards the nurse.** NRO: Are you aware that you have an eight year old Autistic boy out here who free fell six and a half feet onto a cement floor and knocked out several teeth and has been bleeding profusely from his mouth for forty-five minutes? Triage Nurse: No sir. We didn't. I'll get him seen right away. **David Lee thanks The Nitemare and his family is escorted back to the exam room area. He sits back down.** Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: That boy lost teeth they said? NRO: Yes ma'am. I know the father. He sold me a car. Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Well, you tell him if he need a good dentist, I know one over off of Balboa... NRO: I;m sure he'll be fine, but I'll pass it along. Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Well, if you aren't with them, why are you here? NRO: Well, my wife was in a car crash and she is in the Operating Room. Why are you here...because Travian there has a headache? Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: Well...don't you tell nobody cause if'n you do, I'll deny it. But they got cable Tv and air conditioning in here....and free popsicles for my grandbaby. It's like a free hotel that's free. NRO: No it isn't you stupid Jennifer Adams. People like you are exaclty what's wrong with our countries helath care system. Old Black Lady with Mega Giant Ass: People like ME?!?! What is THAT supposed to mean? NRO: Don't flatter yourself toots. Some of my best friends are black. I mean people like you who assume the ER is your personal doctor you see for normal stuff. It isn't free, not is it free when they give you the tylenol they give you, or the popsicles, or the cable, or the x-rays and time they'll waste. That's tax payer money you idiot. People like you and people like Keith Daniels think everything is free and handed to them on some silver fucking latter. Go buy your shithead grand son some aspirin, make him pull up his god damned shorts and take that stupid hatt off of his head at that wierd angle and if you want central air and cable, GET A FUCKING JOB! **Just then the nurse page shim and she informs him his wife was never actually in surgery and has just been sitting in the back in an exam room for 7 hours. At first they actually thought she was in a coma, but she had just fallen asleep waiting for the nurse to come in. She would have went straight home but her driver insisted she get checked out. He walks in as she is signing the papers to leave without being treated.** Christina: Can you believe this shit? Seven fucking hours....I fall asleep and they just let me sleep? NRO: How do you think I feel. I was a nervous wreck and paid nine grand to charter an airbus that could come non stop without laying over for a refuel and was told you were in surgery. Christina: WHAT!?!?! NRO: I'm gonna own this place before this is over. C'mon. Let's get to the airport. I think if we get ther ein an hour, we can be back in Honolulu by the time I have my meeting with Xamin. **FTB** |
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