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The scene opens up, like it usually does, with the new superstar in
the AWE, Nathan Kaye, stood at a desk in blinding sunshine. Kaye is
dressed out in remarkably fashionable attire considering his
previous interviews had all consisted of him dressing rather
modestly. Although we can only see the upper half of Kaye�s body,
with the AWE cameraman awkwardly deciding to position himself and
his camera from afar on the other side of his desk. Kaye�s eyes are
protected from this intense sunshine by some retro thick-framed
sunglasses. His hands rest holding a scrap of paper on the desk,
fiddling with it in the silence. The background of the picture shows
us see through doors, marred by dirt and obstructed by something
that resembles a dying, or very possibly dead, plant that probably
stood proud many years ago. This is a reception for the worst motel
in California.
After a few moments for everyone to take this scene in, a gentleman
walks in and stands behind the desk. Incredibly overweight and
completely bald, the man is wearing very uncomplimentary blue shorts
along with a red shirt that hasn�t seen a washing machine this side
of the millennium. To top it all off, the man�s collar on this
stained polo shirt is uneven and tangled.
You don�t get this in Mother England.
The view switches now to Kaye�s right side allowing us to view both
him and the motel receptionist. Kaye�s mouth is somewhat gaping,
possibly in complete awe of the monstrosity of the man standing
before him. The receptionist is chewing on something, a sandwich
most likely, while looking at the well dressed man in front of him.
Kaye comes to. He hands the scrap of paper over the desk to the
receptionist who unfolds it and reads it.
�AWE, huh?� He asks, still chewing. Foul. �You one of the
wrestlers?� He asks, looking up from the paper, still chewing. Kaye
nods his head enthusiastically.
�Yes, sir. Nathan Kaye, it�s all on there. I�m told I have a room
booked��
�Yeah yeah, we�ve put up plenty of your types for the Sacremento
shows. How you liking California? British accent you got there,
huh�?� A lot of questions in such a short time, too much for Kaye to
answer before more would come in. �You new? You sure look new. No
bruises!� He man grits the grub in between his teeth and chortles at
his own gag. Kaye, being the politest of polite English gentleman
that is he, smiles and forces a laugh too.
�Yes, sir. Television debut on Monday night at the ARCO.� Kaye
replies. He reaches down and grabs the handle on his brown bag.
Eagle eyed fans who remember Nathan�s first interview in the AWE
will no doubt remember this bag�s influence in that tearjerker of an
introduction which Kaye treated us to a week ago. A week ago? That
seems like such a long time ago now, now that we�re here.
�We�ve had plenty of shows come and go at the ARCO.� The
receptionist says. He turns his back to the camera, and Kaye, and
grabs a set of keys from the rack and walks around the desk and off
camera. Kaye scoops the bag up by the handle and follows the
receptionist, who has now left the area and is walking down a long
path of pavement with a line of motel rooms on his left and gravel
on his right. �Feds usually send their young kids or newcomers to us
for the night. We give a good rate. They�re good to us, we�re good
to them.� The receptionist says to Kaye. It�s surreal � this dank
out of town motel resembles something of a museum or other tourist
hotspot with Kaye obediently following the receptionist down this
path as he talks. One could imagine these rooms being maintained
displays, with the masses paying to see them and be educated by the
museum staff � even if they are stained by pizzas of old.
�Well, I�m sure you�ve seen a fair number of famous faces come and
go�� Kaye adds. He�s obviously struggling for conversation topics,
but he isn�t going to let a little matter like that from stopping
him making conversation. �I�m sure this room has seen�er�people
of�note�� Kaye�s really struggling. He�s more suited to a ring than
snappy conversation, it would appear.
�A
few. Ever heard of �The Garbage Dragon� Greg Travis?� The man says,
sliding a key into a keyhole. He looks up at Kaye for a reaction.
Kaye, as we have come to learn, looks totally bemused. He shakes his
head, almost apologetically. �Nevermind.� The reception almost takes
offence to this lack of knowledge by Kaye and the remainder of the
dialogue between the two is very much brisk, thanks entirely to the
receptionist. This, as a conversation, is over.
�Reception � just pick up the phone and dial one. We don�t allow any
food orders to be made after eight o�clock. You hear me? Eight
o�clock!� The reaffirming of this time makes Kaye take a slight step
back as the receptionist glares back at him from inside the door
frame. He walks into the room, flicks a light on and stands at the
food of the bed. �Toilet.� A reluctant point. �Cupboards.� Another
one. �Any questions?�
Kaye is dumbfounded. This reckless change in attitude has taken him
by complete surprise. This guy is worse than some wrestling fanboys
on the internet. No, I don�t know who your second cousin Derek�s
wrestling pseudonym is. Wasn�t Wrestlemania a disappointment?
Kaye shakes his head after coming to, lifts his bag up and places it
on the double bed � neatly made that very same day. Probably the
only upside about this dank Californian hole.
�If you want any visitors in, that�shouldn�t be a problem.� The
receptionist says, walking towards the door, finger swinging the
keys in a jangly, annoying circle, like some metallic Russian
gymnast high above Baltic land. �If you want someone on our property
after ten o�clock, you need to��, the man glimpses at Kaye�s crotch,
of all places. �Sign them in. Shouldn�t be too much of a problem.�
Kaye looks confused, as one would when an overweight hotel employee
makes some sort of vague proposition in a very secluded part of
Sacremento.
�You boys�you�re always bringing girls and people back for parties.
Don�t want none a� that stuff round here, you hear me?� This just
keeps getting weird. Kaye gulps. Who would have thought a
professional wrestler, no matter how ring rusty one could be, would
be intimidated by a man who last ran when Democrats weren�t
complaining on the internet?
�That�s not really my�� Kaye searches for the word, �scene. No. I�ll
be enjoying a Diet Coke and a copy of PWI most evenings.� He adds.
He removes his sunglasses. Here comes the Kaye of old. �It�s all the
same to you, sir?�
The man is taken a back. I guess he IS a wrestler.
�Enjoy your staff, champ.� He adds. He slings the keys towards key,
with no venom or animosity, but Kaye still clinches them with a
swift left hand. �Oh, nice catch. Baseball fan?�
�Cricket.� Replies Kaye, admiring the catch himself, smugly.
�Ha ha. God damned limeys�� the receptionist utters, closing the
door behind him as he leaves the room. His shadow appears in the
window, waltzing back towards the desk that greeted us at the start
of the scene. Kaye follows the cast slowly until it disappears
before turning to look around his room.
Bland.
He
takes out a book from his bag, crumbled, dog-eared and thoroughly
riveting, and places his bag on the floor by the side of the bed. He
gets comfortable, opens at a designated page and goes back to losing
himself in Giles Foden�s �The Last King of Scotland�. |
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You know, the other day, when I was watching a wonderful bout of AWE
programming while waiting for a train or a bus or some other
unreliable piece of American transportation, I was delighted to come
across our company�s prized-possession, the none other than Sean
Ryken denouncing me, Johnny Vain and probably eighteen religions
without, it appeared, a care in the world.
Let me tell you Sean, oh Lord, you don�t know how it wonderful it
felt to sit there hearing you curse like a sailor. To hear you
criticise me, my past and my methods. To devise this aura about your
mere appearance that made you look and sound like a million men. It
felt good. It felt amazing. It felt like, finally, after five years,
I was back home again.
No
Sean, I�m not sadomasochist self-destroyer who gets off on the pain
I feel inside the wrestling ring. If I were, I assure you I would be
a lot more excited than this match on Monday than I already am -
which is damned near impossible in my normal state. No, what I mean
to say is that to have me very firmly in your mind�s eye, in your
cross hairs, in your thoughts and dreams. This is what I�ve missed
in them five years of rehabs and near retirement announcements. The
ATTENTION. You�ve give me, Sean, more thought in five minutes than
any other gentleman has since � ah. I simply can�t remember. That�s
what makes it so exquisite! So intense! So fantastic!
But, the thing is, I don�t want just these five minutes you�ve given
me this week and the match length that I�m going to have in the ring
with you on Monday night at the ACRO Arena. I want to be the burning
image that harasses you at breakfast, over the morning newspaper,
over that light jog to get your limbs working like your mind. When
you aren�t connected to the world of wrestling. Only that way will I
totally be back in this wonderful profession of ours.
Your comments from the other night, Sean, were coated in such
venomous poison and disdain that it almost, ALMOST, offended me, you
know. The hate that poured forth from your mouth was intense. So
putrid. I suppose it was only natural for a native Floridan like
your good self to label me an �egotistical bitch� with such
reinforcement that I had to pat myself on the chest and legs to make
sure I was still alive. I�ve been called an array of derogatory
terms in my time on this Earth, but that was something that really
made me think twice.
As
for the inspiration of a whole generation to laugh at me, I�m not
entirely sure where that�s coming from. I suppose you weren�t there
when fans accosted me across the continent all them moons ago? I
make it sound like an eternity � how careless � but it certainly was
before these new fandangled Playstation 3s came out, or whatever
they�re called! Autographs and gifts � gifts and autographs. Oh it
was amazing Sean, I can only lament the fact that you were not there
to watch from a black and white monitor to see the fame and
adulation that I earned. Time has taken it�s toll on these numbers
and these memories, I agree, but to erode the cheers into laughter?
I simply MUST take issue with this Sean.
I
would like to let it slide as a flub, some little niggle of
misinformation that somehow infiltrated your research. You know what
� I�ve changed my mind. I�m going to let you think I am a has been,
a source of laughter to the masses, a what-could-have-been. Whatever
you wish to call it, Sean. If you really think that the legends I
have locked horns with are not fit to shine your shoes, my friend,
then YOU are the one who is the joke. I would thoroughly enjoy for
you to come face to the face with the men who have simply stood toe
to toe with me in a staredown, nevermind a bloody wrestling contest.
Your arrogance can only drag you so far in this world Sean, and your
arrogance is certainly dragging you across the world despite you
grasping to that wonderfully heavy piece of gold around your waist.
�Sean Ryken is going to be the next big thing in AWE�. You can
believe that if you truly wish, because after Monday what you do
with your career inside these four walls is of little concern to me.
However, your destiny has taken you from your debut to where ever in
this world you will end up, and during that journey, you have
stumbled across a true wrestling enigma. You have stumbled across
this re-organised mass of wrestling stardom that IS ascending my
friend, whether you think you can cover it up with some masculine
swearing and insults.
For one night, this Monday, Sean, we cross paths. I will be friendly
enough to warn you to guard against complacency. Don�t let those Old
World lights you have just returned from blind you from your task in
hand because I wouldn�t want all of that fame and attention you�ve
been receiving lately to make you believe you are something you
really are not.
Oh
wait � too late. Bollocks!
I
truly hope my words are causing that cursed headache you complained
of the other night. That made me laugh, I did indeed chortle. What a
wonderfully light hearted way to end such a poisonous assault on my
character. In fact, now that I really think about it Sean, that last
line truly sums up my feelings about you. When it boils down to it,
my friend, you remind me of the child back on those Manchester
terraced estates who works hard enough to treat himself to a new
bike � a BMX perhaps? I can�t recall, I was always more of a walking
type of guy. But I digress. This child, this petulant little child,
has done enough to earn this bike, and all of those around the
estate congratulated him on his efforts achieving this monumental
piece of social status. However � what is there after this purchase?
Where�s all the money gone, Sean? Has all that potential truly
evaporated to be used on something that will make you look good now,
that wonderfully crafted title belt around your waist, but will you
ever be able to muster enough potential to go after bigger and
better things? A Yamaha perhaps? No wait, sorry, the world title I
mean? Has it all come too much, too soon for you? While the world
may be full of back slap-happy cretins ready to tell you how
wonderful you are, you are NOT stepping into the ring with such a
cretin on Monday.
Let it be known, Sean Ryken, this record isn�t stuck. This pattern
isn�t indefinite. This star isn�t fading. There�s a hidden track, a
reverse side, a next life. You, my over confident adversary, are the
first rung on the cosmic ladder to success here in the AWE. And I
hope you�re fucking terrified.
While you�re here, it would be a waste of time not to refer to the
third partner in our wonderfully timed and well rehearsed tango on
Monday night. Hooray for the sounds of silence that emit from the
Johnny Vain front. One would be considered awfully presumptuous to
consider the honourable gentleman is running scared the thought of
having to have a verbal duel with me, such a considerable and
talented wordsmith, and my learned friend Mr. Sean Ryken. I will
give the man in question the benefit on the doubt on the matter, but
Johnny, please don�t think that in my response to Sean�s comments
that I have forgotten about you.
A
recent evening along, again, in a dank motel room somewhere near Los
Angeles was spent watching an array of your matches in your career.
Armed with a cigar and a wonderful small bottle of scotch, I had my
second epiphany of the week. How apt, when one considers the time of
year, don�t you think? With a thick smoke in the air, no doubt in
fringing my consumer rights, I saw you, Johnny Vain, dotter around
the ring in that awkward manner of yours.
As
I�ve previously addressed, your height may lure you into false sense
of security and superiority over the average height of me and Sean
Ryken. Much like Sean�s cockiness, which still continues to tickle
these tired British funny bones minutes after I�ve finished
addressing that little so and so, you have presented me with such an
obvious weakness, a place for me to place such pressure, that it
will be impossible to avoid defeat.
Just looking at you, Johnny, it�s so incredible that someone like
you considers themselves to be a wrestler. When it comes down to a
true one and one contest, which it may do in this triple threat
match between us three, then do you really think your height and
deceitful tactics in the ring will save you at all from the methods
I have to bring you down at my disposal?
Do
you really, honestly, think that your power moves will even come
CLOSE to being applied on me? Me � a true ring mat technician. I
will NOT allow my body, as fragile as it has been in the past few
years, to be become embroiled in some tedious brawl with you,
Johnny. No, the only way any conflict between me and you will
transpire is if you are brought down to my level. Literally, I might
add. How secure will you feel standing in that ring, Johnny? With
your arms and legs at eternal risk by some quick move by myself, or
some terrible fate brought upon you from above by our mutual friend
Sean Ryken?
I
fear for your safety come Monday night Johnny, I truly do.
So, gents, I don�t think there�s a whole lot for me to say now
regarding the match that I haven�t already addressed. Johnny,
remember how I�m warning you from the bottom of my Lancastrian heart
about the perils that you face in the centre of that ring on Monday.
Sean, don�t you dare forget how fantastic I believe you can make our
encounter be. I can make it special � but you have to drag it and
help me make it that little bit more special.
I�m counting on you Ryken, but I�m sure you won�t fail� |