Post by Declan Prescott on Jun 30, 2010 6:57:58 GMT -5
“That’s right, niggas. It’s me, it’s me, it’s Bran-Don-McSkin-Ee.”
Brandon McSkinny gazes into the camera lens, his face only inches from it, breathing heavily, his eyes swelling with unmatched ferocity. He removes his specs and crushes them to pieces with a single hand.
“You see that? That’s the power of Brandon Mother Fuckin’ McSkinny! Now I know I’ve been gone for a while, had some shit to take care of, but this hardcore gangsta is finally back. And I gotta say, I’ve returned to a fuckin’ joke. Since when did we accept some brown skinned stripper to be one of the best wrestlers we have on our roster?! I guess I’m the only one who remembers the thirty minute mat classics between Misery and myself. The matches that saw me stomp a mud hole and walk it dry on every pussy in all of Global Impact Wrestling! Well bitches, I’m gonna remind the couple of Skinny fans. Because I’m bringing those days back!
“Yeah, you heard that right, Chassie Fear’s opponent this Saturday is ME! And that stretch mark skinned, clown fearing bitch is gonna find out how inferior to The Global Gangsta she really is! But let’s not fool ourselves, no one is gonna be impressed when McSkinny lays the Smackdown on some old lady, who can’t even stand up to a monk. I mean seriously, Solomon gets his ass whooped by Sean Fucking Cyanide?! A dude who has so little achievements to his name, he’s forced to make them up, claming he once beat the best wrestler there is, was and ever will be in Declan Prescott?! And Chassie is so low on the food chain, she’s actually losing to jobbers like that? Then she expects to be able to stand up to Rated H Superstar? H for Hardcore, bitches!
“Honestly, we all know this match with Chassie Fear is just a formality. My BROTHA Declan needs to at least make it look like he’s giving me some competition. But this Saturday is gonna be a bigger squash than BoolZ’ momma and Marlo’s ass combined! The real target is that joke of a Champion we have, named Gabrielle Maddison Montgomery. Yeah, the bitch who spends more time making pornos than Chris Austin does watching them. You’re a fucking disgrace to that Title and the ONE TIME GIW Man Champ sees it as his personal mission to bring prestige back to that Championship. And that’s not being cocky, that’s just the truth, the damn truth!
“And you know what the difference between this genetic jackhammer and all those hoes making a mockery of GIW every time they step in the ring is? GRAPEFRUITS! That’s right. Brandon McSkinny has BALLS! Hell, Brandon McSkinny LOVES BALLS! Skinny is THE MAN! And no one can stand up to the unstoppable might of my janglies! And that’s what makes Brandon McSkinny… THE WOMAN KILLER!!!!”
Skinny awoke, a grin over his face, finding himself in the same rundown car he had spent the last several months living in. Parked outside the building that served as home to the Prescotts, he grabbed his binoculars and gazed up at the apartment his boss lived in. Still nothing to see. Whatever Cara was waiting for to make her move, he was beginning to just wish it would just hurry up and happen. All this waiting may very well kill him, before that monster even had the chance to lay her vulturous claws into Declan.
‘Ah well,’ he thought to himself. ‘Nothing I can do, except stay dedicated.’
He slumped back into his seat and pondered the dream he had just had. He could never really cut a promo like that. He was more camera shy than Kiseragi. But he meant every word he had said in that dream.
‘Who am I kidding?’ he then mused, interrupting his own thoughts. ‘She’s gonna kick my ass this Saturday.’
“Stop being such an ass!” she pouted, digging her nails into Declan’s back with all her strength.
“OW!” he said, recoiling from her reach. “That really hurt!”
“Well that was the idea,” she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “But you deserved it!” She then continued, leaping into Declan’s arms and wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Well if you say so,” he concurred, sliding his hands beneath her buttocks and hoisting her up, so their faces were level.
“Oh I do!” she giggled, relishing that his temper had finally calmed. “Now let’s talk.”
“About what? Boxers vs. briefs?”
“Neither!” she squeaked, sticking her tongue out. “I was actually thinking…” she continued, her tone now much more serious. “About what’s gotten you so hot and bothered? I can’t stand it when you’re all grumpy!”
“I’m actually surprised you’re not upset,” he responded, sitting himself down on the sofa. “Now that Maguire is awake…” His words drifted into silence and Cara turned her vision to the floor, clearly understanding.
“I guess… I guess,” she now turned back to Declan, mustering the bravest smile she could. “You said you’d protect me from him. You promised. So I guess I’m just trusting you enough to not let it bother me.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, pressing her face into his neck. She was unable to keep her body from trembling.
‘I was afraid of that,’ he thought to himself and Cara’s entire boy instantly jerked, as if she could read his mind.
“I…” she began. “I know you never wanted to do this. And I know, if you do, you’ll be breaking a promise you made to yourself before you even knew me. But… I can’t do it alone. I need - ”
Knock! Knock!
“Don’t answer it,” she said, before biting lightly into his neck.
“I have to sweetie,” he responded. “Could be important. You go wait in the bedroom.”
She stared at him unhappily, before kissing her finger and then pressing it to his lips. She climbed to her feet and headed to the bedroom, telling Declan to be careful, before shutting and locking the door behind her. Declan licked his lips, before rising to his feet and marching to the front door. He peered through the peek hole and saw nothing. Cursing the children that lived at the other end of the hallway and their eternally aggravating ‘knock and run’ games, he swang the door open and rolled his eyes at the four foot, yellow image before him.
“I wish it had been the kids…”
“Hello, Declan,” eD cASe mumbled nervously, his attempt at confidence completely failing.
“That’s ‘Mr. Prescott’ to you.”
“Um, yes, of course, I apologise Mr. Prescott. But regardless, I really need to speak to you.”
“Then speak,” Declan replied monotonously.
“Could I come in?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Please,” eD replied. “It’s important.”
Declan sighed, stepping away from the door and granting eD entry. The little yellow thing, whatever it was, waddled through the door and turned to Declan once he was inside. The Significant Player slammed the door closed and then leaned against it, crossing his arms gruffly.
“So what do you want?” he inquired, though showing absolutely no interest in the answer.
“It’s about Travis,” eD began, though couldn’t continue, as Declan chuckled loudly, drowning his words.
“What about that two bit hack? He finally reached the very bottom and joined Cyanide’s love fest of a cult? Actually, that’d probably be an improvement by Roberts’ standards.”
“That’s just uncalled for!” eD spat, his anger temporarily seizing control of him.
“Heh, the little guy has some fight in him, after all. Maybe you should be the wrestler of that ridiculous little duo you have. You certainly couldn’t do any worse than Roberts.”
“Please Declan,” eD pleaded. “You have to understand - ”
“What’d I tell you about calling me that?!” Declan spat, now leaning forward and shoving his face only inches from eD’s. “And I think you need to understand, that I have bigger things to worry about than if your boyfriend’s feelings are hurt at the realisation that he’s just a washed up hack. I’ve got a homicidal detective after me and someone hacked their way into my office computer and booked this week’s card without my knowledge! Okay, eD? Do you understand that? I don’t give a fuck about you or Roberts. Now get out of my home.”
“Hacked, you say?” eD replied, as if in a trance.
“What?!” Prescott barked, his eyes bulging nearly out of his head. “You know something!”
In one, swift movement, he clasped both hands around eD’s throat, swung him through the air and slammed him into the apartment door. The defenceless, yellow creature gagged desperately for air, but to no avail. The Significant Player wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
“Tell me you piss coloured freak! Who was it?! Was it you?!”
“N… no…” eD gasped, seconds from unconsciousness. “I d… don… don’t know…”
Prescott grunted with rage and released his grip on the yellow dwarf. eD fell helplessly to the floor, panting to catch his breath.
“I suggest you leave, little man,” Prescott spoke, his words seemed empty, though incredibly threatening. “Before I do something we both regret.”
“I can’t,” eD gasped, climbing back to his feet. “Not until I’ve said what I need to.”
“Then say what you need to and be quick about it,” Prescott snapped, staring out the window and showing no sign he was paying the slightest piece attention to his yellow acquaintance.
“This match on Saturday,” eD said, brushing himself off in a failing attempt to reclaim his dignity. “I don’t know if Roberts can handle facing you right now. With everything that’s happened, he - ”
“Of course he can’t,” Prescott began, seemingly unaware that he had cut eD’s words short. “None of them can. Roberts spent 28 days belittling his Distant Whispers opponents to the point one would mistake them for some kind of special school dropouts. So what does it say about him that he was defeated by them? At least when I berate my opponents, I always deliver the goods. No, no, Travis Roberts is finally accepting how untalented and overrated he is. And I’ll help him arrive at that conclusion when I humiliate and upstage him on Saturday, without even breaking a sweat.
“And Randy Boolzian? The guy who bitches about every single thing I do, but decides befriending Chris ‘I’m gonna cry like a school girl every time I don’t get my way’ Austin is an intelligent decision?! He may be undefeated, but that doesn’t mean a thing in my world. He’s an excellent wrestler no doubt, but he’s not a superstar. And all the wins in the world won’t change that. He’s the type of man who berates his opponents because he feels he has to, lest he fade into the very deepest and darkest regions of obscurity, not because he means it. There’s never a trace of honesty in anything he says. He actually expects people to believe he holds no respect for the likes of me, but thinks Chris Austin is a man worthy of anything, other than a bucket of wet cement over the head? It’s truly laughable. No, no, he’ll probably spend the entire week talking about how I’m abusing my power by making a Horizons main event that is actually worthy of the Global Title. Then, instead of trying to make people - outside of obese, Sean Jensen shirt wearing indy fans - give a fuck about who he is, he’ll be arrested for public indecency and give me yet another PR nightmare, before telling me he can’t wrestle for fear of spreading his crabs. He’s like an ignorant child living in a dream. He’s completely inadequate as a human being and I’ll show the world as much come Sentinel.
“And how could I forget about Alex Kiseragi? Actually, with great ease, seeing as he’s done absolutely nothing since becoming Global Champion. The only time he opens his mouth is on Sentinel and probably at whatever club he and that Chris Austin midget spend their spare time at. I mean, I haven’t seen one promo, one public appearance, one anything from this guy. He just spends all his time hanging out with his ‘daddy’ and badmouthing me on my own show. The show that I created without him. The show I made successful without him. The show that will continue to be successful after he fades into obscurity with the likes of Deathman and Komosube. And then he has the nerve to thank me, after insulting me?! What kind of ass backward logic does that Tinkerbelle operate on? Maybe he’s used to pain and pleasure going hand-in-hand - not that I want to know - but you really shouldn’t thank me, Kiseragi. You’ve been set up simply so I can push you back down. For at Horizons, that Global Heavyweight Championship finally comes home to a man who will give that Title all the honour and prestige it deserves. The only man who can, in fact.”
The Significant Player turned back to the living room and sighed with disappointment at seeing eD still standing in it.
“You’re still here?”
“I’m still here,” eD responded, clearly unimpressed and growing impatient. “But you know what’s sad? Travis would agree with everything you just said. His confidence is all but gone. He doesn’t believe in himself anymore.”
“Nor should he,” Declan responded. “He’s just like all the others. A fake. An overcompensating fraud, who can’t live up to his self-manufactured hype. It’s really quite pathetic.”
“It’s not his fault,” eD retorted, folding his arms and refusing to back down.
“So whose fault is it?” Declan replied, smirking sarcastically. “Mine? Because I didn’t take out Kiseragi? Because I didn’t realise taking candy from a baby would be too difficult a task for ‘The Headliner’ to handle? Or is it because I’m actually Satan? Huh, eD?”
“No Prescott,” eD replied. “It’s not your fault. I was actually referring to Mary-Jo.”
“Huh?!” Declan gasped, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh yeah, Roberts’ ex or something, right? What does she have to do with any of this? Gave him a syphilis eye, so he couldn’t see straight?”
“He never told you,” eD began. “About the divorce. It all started less than two weeks before Distant Whispers. She’s taking him for every cent he’s worth. And, though he’d never admit it, he still loves her. He always will. He’s done his best to hide it, but it’s affecting him. His entire world has fallen apart. And one of the few people he called a friend has abandoned him because he lost a single match. What you’re doing isn’t right!”
“Please,” Declan responded. “We’ve all got problems. Every single person in the world. What separates us is how we deal with them. And Travis Roberts’ love life problems isn’t a concern to me. Maybe you should go talk to Kiseragi about this. I’m sure he’d be highly interested. Not about Mary-Jo mind you…”
“Fine,” eD responded, with a sigh. He began heading to the door and opened it on arrival. As he stepped through the threshold, he spoke once more. “But just think about one thing. What if your positions were reversed. What if it was Cara betraying you? What if she was trying to ruin your life? How would that affect you, Mr. Prescott?”
The door slammed shut behind the yellow creature, as Declan’s jaw was left hanging wide and he fell to his knees. The pain in his chest. It stung so badly. What was this feeling?! And why wouldn’t it leave?!
“Baby,” Cara said, emerging from the bedroom, nervously pulling on her shirt sleeve. “You okay?” she asked, as she reached him.
He slammed his arms around her hips and stuffed his face into her stomach, unable to hold the tears back any longer.
“Whatever comes,” he wept. “No matter what, we’ll face it together. I promise.”
“Doug! Thank God I got here in time. They tell me you’re checking out!”
“That’s right,” Maguire replied, adjusting his sleek, navy blue tie. “I’m coming back to work tomorrow. Hope they didn’t give you a new partner while I was away, Franks.”
“Doug!” Franks spat. “You’re not ready! You only came out of your coma a few days ago. I can’t believe they’re even letting you checkout!”
“Well it’s not like I asked. I’m a grown man and I know when I’m okay. So can you give me a lift to my place?”
“Please, Doug! Just stay in the hospital. You need to rest and recover. That’s the best thing you can do while the rest of us try to catch the motherfucker that did this to you!”
Maguire’s hands froze and his tie fell loose. “Yes,” he said. “Just what did happen to me?”
“WHAT?!” Franks blurted, without any control. “You mean you don’t remember?! We found you almost dead at a carnival. We were hoping you’d be able to tell us who did this!”
“Sorry Franks,” Maguire said, smirking unnaturally. “But I have no idea who did this. The last thing I remember is… Selena. What happened to her?! Is she alright?!”
Maguire thrust his entire frame towards Franks, causing the ageing, chubby detective to take two extremely slow steps backwards. He placed one hand on his hip and placed the other in front of his former partner, his palm facing outwards, telling Maguire to proceed no further.
“Tell me Franks! What did Prescott and his whore do to my Selena?!”
“Nothing,” Franks said in the calmest voice he could muster. “They didn’t do anything to your car.”
“MY CAR?!” he bellowed. “SHE’S NOT A CAR! I LOVE HER!”
“Douglas, you just need to relax, okay?” Franks said, attempting to soothe the wild beast. “We’re gonna work everything out, we just need a bit of time to get everything sorted. So just relax, yeah?”
“It’s hard to relax, when you’ve got one hand on your gun, Ben!” he sneered.
“I’m just concerned,” Franks replied. “I don’t want you doing something rash. I don’t want you to get hurt, Doug. You’re my friend.”
The recently recovered detective began cackling loudly and Franks instantly unbuckled his pistol’s harness. Maguire looked from the weapon, into Franks’ eyes and smiled hugely, his deranged yellow teeth filling Benjamin Franks with absolute dread.
“I always stood for justice, Ben,” he began. “To always work within the law, but to always correct the law’s mistakes when it failed the people.”
“Doug, what do you mean - ”
“He raped her, Ben,” Maguire continued, ignoring the question. “Or at least he tried to. Either way she killed him defending herself. But they lied. Both of them. They said that nothing happened. That Cara wasn’t there. I don’t understand why they would lie. But once they did, they went against the law. Citizens are expected to be honest and diligent contributors to society. But in my quest for justice, I became what I hate. I tried to blackmail Andy Savana. Threatened to expose his secret to the entire world. But in exchange for his help, I would keep that secret. Pretend I knew nothing. I lied to you. I lied to the Lieutenant. And the Captain. I lied to myself. Convinced myself it was okay, as long as I was doing it to find justice.”
“Doug, what are you talking about? What secret?!”
“Honestly… I don’t remember,” he replied, chuckling and Franks smiled falsely in return.
“And then I ended up in here,” Maguire stated. “The doctor told me I was dead for almost a minute. I got what I deserved.”
“No - ”
“I paid for my crimes. And I was reborn, with a fresh slate. Like a phoenix from the ashes.”
“Doug, just slow down, here. There’s no rush to do anything! Just keep cool and we’ll - ”
“I kill people, Ben,” he confessed, staring blankly at his shoes.
“We only ever fire our weapon to save a life!” Franks protested. “You know that Doug! We’re the good guys! Honest cops like you and me!”
“I,” Maguire corrected. “You and I. But you’re wrong. I don’t always use my gun. Sometimes it’s a knife. Sometimes a saw. Sometimes even my own body.”
“You’re scaring me, Doug!” Franks pleaded. “Just sit down and we’ll get you some help! Everything’s gonna be fi - ”
“I just saw so much death and decay in this world. I needed to clean it all up. To do my part in saving this society. It was my mission to destroy the corrupt and eradicate those who mock our laws. To protect those who are unable to protect themselves. It made me feel… something other than nothingness.
“But I became consumed by one single case. Not even an important case. I don’t blame Cara for killing that piece of shit. But her refusal to stand before the law and take responsibility for her actions is unacceptable. She’s a killer and she has to admit that. I tried doing it the proper way. The way we usually do it. But Declan’s sharp mind and vast amounts of money mean I’ll never be able to get a conviction. Which leaves only one other option.”
“What’s that?” Franks inquired with a whisper, fearing the answer.
“It means the law has failed,” Maguire stated, still staring at the floor. “It means I have to kill them.”
“DON’T FUCKIN’ MOVE!” Franks roared, ripping the pistol from its holder and placing it, with trembling hands, squarely on Douglas Maguire.
“Please, Franks,” Maguire mused. “Bullets can’t kill me.”
“THIS IS DETECTIVE BENJAMIN FRANKS!” he bellowed into his radio. “I’M AT THE HOSPITAL AND I NEED BACK - ARGH!!!!!”
With one fluid movement, the sleek Maguire had wrapped both his hands around the lumbering Franks’ pistol. Maguire smashed his forehead into the nose of Franks, sending the chubby man toppling to the now blood stained floor.
“YOU BROKE MY NOSE!” he spat. “WHAT THE FUCK, DOUG?! I’M YOUR PARTNER! I’M YOUR FRIE - ”
“YOU STOOD IN THE WAY OF JUSTICE!” Maguire roared, an unholy fury empowering his words.
Franks didn’t speak. His bulging, tear filled eyes said more than words ever could. The fear, the defeat, the inkling of hope. It was a sight Maguire had seen so many times before. But never like this. Something was different.
It was no matter.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
With three echoing shots, Benjamin Franks was dead. His sweaty, round frame now completely motionless. Maguire could already hear the footsteps rushing toward him. But he was out of the room, down the hall and racing out the fire escape within a matter of seconds. It would be more difficult now that he was a fugitive and not an enforcer. But his life was already forfeit. He had to die in order to learn that. Only one, final thing mattered now. That his mission succeeded.
That Declan and Cara Prescott died.
Brandon McSkinny gazes into the camera lens, his face only inches from it, breathing heavily, his eyes swelling with unmatched ferocity. He removes his specs and crushes them to pieces with a single hand.
“You see that? That’s the power of Brandon Mother Fuckin’ McSkinny! Now I know I’ve been gone for a while, had some shit to take care of, but this hardcore gangsta is finally back. And I gotta say, I’ve returned to a fuckin’ joke. Since when did we accept some brown skinned stripper to be one of the best wrestlers we have on our roster?! I guess I’m the only one who remembers the thirty minute mat classics between Misery and myself. The matches that saw me stomp a mud hole and walk it dry on every pussy in all of Global Impact Wrestling! Well bitches, I’m gonna remind the couple of Skinny fans. Because I’m bringing those days back!
“Yeah, you heard that right, Chassie Fear’s opponent this Saturday is ME! And that stretch mark skinned, clown fearing bitch is gonna find out how inferior to The Global Gangsta she really is! But let’s not fool ourselves, no one is gonna be impressed when McSkinny lays the Smackdown on some old lady, who can’t even stand up to a monk. I mean seriously, Solomon gets his ass whooped by Sean Fucking Cyanide?! A dude who has so little achievements to his name, he’s forced to make them up, claming he once beat the best wrestler there is, was and ever will be in Declan Prescott?! And Chassie is so low on the food chain, she’s actually losing to jobbers like that? Then she expects to be able to stand up to Rated H Superstar? H for Hardcore, bitches!
“Honestly, we all know this match with Chassie Fear is just a formality. My BROTHA Declan needs to at least make it look like he’s giving me some competition. But this Saturday is gonna be a bigger squash than BoolZ’ momma and Marlo’s ass combined! The real target is that joke of a Champion we have, named Gabrielle Maddison Montgomery. Yeah, the bitch who spends more time making pornos than Chris Austin does watching them. You’re a fucking disgrace to that Title and the ONE TIME GIW Man Champ sees it as his personal mission to bring prestige back to that Championship. And that’s not being cocky, that’s just the truth, the damn truth!
“And you know what the difference between this genetic jackhammer and all those hoes making a mockery of GIW every time they step in the ring is? GRAPEFRUITS! That’s right. Brandon McSkinny has BALLS! Hell, Brandon McSkinny LOVES BALLS! Skinny is THE MAN! And no one can stand up to the unstoppable might of my janglies! And that’s what makes Brandon McSkinny… THE WOMAN KILLER!!!!”
* * * * *
Skinny awoke, a grin over his face, finding himself in the same rundown car he had spent the last several months living in. Parked outside the building that served as home to the Prescotts, he grabbed his binoculars and gazed up at the apartment his boss lived in. Still nothing to see. Whatever Cara was waiting for to make her move, he was beginning to just wish it would just hurry up and happen. All this waiting may very well kill him, before that monster even had the chance to lay her vulturous claws into Declan.
‘Ah well,’ he thought to himself. ‘Nothing I can do, except stay dedicated.’
He slumped back into his seat and pondered the dream he had just had. He could never really cut a promo like that. He was more camera shy than Kiseragi. But he meant every word he had said in that dream.
‘Who am I kidding?’ he then mused, interrupting his own thoughts. ‘She’s gonna kick my ass this Saturday.’
* * * * *
“Stop being such an ass!” she pouted, digging her nails into Declan’s back with all her strength.
“OW!” he said, recoiling from her reach. “That really hurt!”
“Well that was the idea,” she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “But you deserved it!” She then continued, leaping into Declan’s arms and wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Well if you say so,” he concurred, sliding his hands beneath her buttocks and hoisting her up, so their faces were level.
“Oh I do!” she giggled, relishing that his temper had finally calmed. “Now let’s talk.”
“About what? Boxers vs. briefs?”
“Neither!” she squeaked, sticking her tongue out. “I was actually thinking…” she continued, her tone now much more serious. “About what’s gotten you so hot and bothered? I can’t stand it when you’re all grumpy!”
“I’m actually surprised you’re not upset,” he responded, sitting himself down on the sofa. “Now that Maguire is awake…” His words drifted into silence and Cara turned her vision to the floor, clearly understanding.
“I guess… I guess,” she now turned back to Declan, mustering the bravest smile she could. “You said you’d protect me from him. You promised. So I guess I’m just trusting you enough to not let it bother me.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, pressing her face into his neck. She was unable to keep her body from trembling.
‘I was afraid of that,’ he thought to himself and Cara’s entire boy instantly jerked, as if she could read his mind.
“I…” she began. “I know you never wanted to do this. And I know, if you do, you’ll be breaking a promise you made to yourself before you even knew me. But… I can’t do it alone. I need - ”
Knock! Knock!
“Don’t answer it,” she said, before biting lightly into his neck.
“I have to sweetie,” he responded. “Could be important. You go wait in the bedroom.”
She stared at him unhappily, before kissing her finger and then pressing it to his lips. She climbed to her feet and headed to the bedroom, telling Declan to be careful, before shutting and locking the door behind her. Declan licked his lips, before rising to his feet and marching to the front door. He peered through the peek hole and saw nothing. Cursing the children that lived at the other end of the hallway and their eternally aggravating ‘knock and run’ games, he swang the door open and rolled his eyes at the four foot, yellow image before him.
“I wish it had been the kids…”
“Hello, Declan,” eD cASe mumbled nervously, his attempt at confidence completely failing.
“That’s ‘Mr. Prescott’ to you.”
“Um, yes, of course, I apologise Mr. Prescott. But regardless, I really need to speak to you.”
“Then speak,” Declan replied monotonously.
“Could I come in?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Please,” eD replied. “It’s important.”
Declan sighed, stepping away from the door and granting eD entry. The little yellow thing, whatever it was, waddled through the door and turned to Declan once he was inside. The Significant Player slammed the door closed and then leaned against it, crossing his arms gruffly.
“So what do you want?” he inquired, though showing absolutely no interest in the answer.
“It’s about Travis,” eD began, though couldn’t continue, as Declan chuckled loudly, drowning his words.
“What about that two bit hack? He finally reached the very bottom and joined Cyanide’s love fest of a cult? Actually, that’d probably be an improvement by Roberts’ standards.”
“That’s just uncalled for!” eD spat, his anger temporarily seizing control of him.
“Heh, the little guy has some fight in him, after all. Maybe you should be the wrestler of that ridiculous little duo you have. You certainly couldn’t do any worse than Roberts.”
“Please Declan,” eD pleaded. “You have to understand - ”
“What’d I tell you about calling me that?!” Declan spat, now leaning forward and shoving his face only inches from eD’s. “And I think you need to understand, that I have bigger things to worry about than if your boyfriend’s feelings are hurt at the realisation that he’s just a washed up hack. I’ve got a homicidal detective after me and someone hacked their way into my office computer and booked this week’s card without my knowledge! Okay, eD? Do you understand that? I don’t give a fuck about you or Roberts. Now get out of my home.”
“Hacked, you say?” eD replied, as if in a trance.
“What?!” Prescott barked, his eyes bulging nearly out of his head. “You know something!”
In one, swift movement, he clasped both hands around eD’s throat, swung him through the air and slammed him into the apartment door. The defenceless, yellow creature gagged desperately for air, but to no avail. The Significant Player wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
“Tell me you piss coloured freak! Who was it?! Was it you?!”
“N… no…” eD gasped, seconds from unconsciousness. “I d… don… don’t know…”
Prescott grunted with rage and released his grip on the yellow dwarf. eD fell helplessly to the floor, panting to catch his breath.
“I suggest you leave, little man,” Prescott spoke, his words seemed empty, though incredibly threatening. “Before I do something we both regret.”
“I can’t,” eD gasped, climbing back to his feet. “Not until I’ve said what I need to.”
“Then say what you need to and be quick about it,” Prescott snapped, staring out the window and showing no sign he was paying the slightest piece attention to his yellow acquaintance.
“This match on Saturday,” eD said, brushing himself off in a failing attempt to reclaim his dignity. “I don’t know if Roberts can handle facing you right now. With everything that’s happened, he - ”
“Of course he can’t,” Prescott began, seemingly unaware that he had cut eD’s words short. “None of them can. Roberts spent 28 days belittling his Distant Whispers opponents to the point one would mistake them for some kind of special school dropouts. So what does it say about him that he was defeated by them? At least when I berate my opponents, I always deliver the goods. No, no, Travis Roberts is finally accepting how untalented and overrated he is. And I’ll help him arrive at that conclusion when I humiliate and upstage him on Saturday, without even breaking a sweat.
“And Randy Boolzian? The guy who bitches about every single thing I do, but decides befriending Chris ‘I’m gonna cry like a school girl every time I don’t get my way’ Austin is an intelligent decision?! He may be undefeated, but that doesn’t mean a thing in my world. He’s an excellent wrestler no doubt, but he’s not a superstar. And all the wins in the world won’t change that. He’s the type of man who berates his opponents because he feels he has to, lest he fade into the very deepest and darkest regions of obscurity, not because he means it. There’s never a trace of honesty in anything he says. He actually expects people to believe he holds no respect for the likes of me, but thinks Chris Austin is a man worthy of anything, other than a bucket of wet cement over the head? It’s truly laughable. No, no, he’ll probably spend the entire week talking about how I’m abusing my power by making a Horizons main event that is actually worthy of the Global Title. Then, instead of trying to make people - outside of obese, Sean Jensen shirt wearing indy fans - give a fuck about who he is, he’ll be arrested for public indecency and give me yet another PR nightmare, before telling me he can’t wrestle for fear of spreading his crabs. He’s like an ignorant child living in a dream. He’s completely inadequate as a human being and I’ll show the world as much come Sentinel.
“And how could I forget about Alex Kiseragi? Actually, with great ease, seeing as he’s done absolutely nothing since becoming Global Champion. The only time he opens his mouth is on Sentinel and probably at whatever club he and that Chris Austin midget spend their spare time at. I mean, I haven’t seen one promo, one public appearance, one anything from this guy. He just spends all his time hanging out with his ‘daddy’ and badmouthing me on my own show. The show that I created without him. The show I made successful without him. The show that will continue to be successful after he fades into obscurity with the likes of Deathman and Komosube. And then he has the nerve to thank me, after insulting me?! What kind of ass backward logic does that Tinkerbelle operate on? Maybe he’s used to pain and pleasure going hand-in-hand - not that I want to know - but you really shouldn’t thank me, Kiseragi. You’ve been set up simply so I can push you back down. For at Horizons, that Global Heavyweight Championship finally comes home to a man who will give that Title all the honour and prestige it deserves. The only man who can, in fact.”
The Significant Player turned back to the living room and sighed with disappointment at seeing eD still standing in it.
“You’re still here?”
“I’m still here,” eD responded, clearly unimpressed and growing impatient. “But you know what’s sad? Travis would agree with everything you just said. His confidence is all but gone. He doesn’t believe in himself anymore.”
“Nor should he,” Declan responded. “He’s just like all the others. A fake. An overcompensating fraud, who can’t live up to his self-manufactured hype. It’s really quite pathetic.”
“It’s not his fault,” eD retorted, folding his arms and refusing to back down.
“So whose fault is it?” Declan replied, smirking sarcastically. “Mine? Because I didn’t take out Kiseragi? Because I didn’t realise taking candy from a baby would be too difficult a task for ‘The Headliner’ to handle? Or is it because I’m actually Satan? Huh, eD?”
“No Prescott,” eD replied. “It’s not your fault. I was actually referring to Mary-Jo.”
“Huh?!” Declan gasped, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh yeah, Roberts’ ex or something, right? What does she have to do with any of this? Gave him a syphilis eye, so he couldn’t see straight?”
“He never told you,” eD began. “About the divorce. It all started less than two weeks before Distant Whispers. She’s taking him for every cent he’s worth. And, though he’d never admit it, he still loves her. He always will. He’s done his best to hide it, but it’s affecting him. His entire world has fallen apart. And one of the few people he called a friend has abandoned him because he lost a single match. What you’re doing isn’t right!”
“Please,” Declan responded. “We’ve all got problems. Every single person in the world. What separates us is how we deal with them. And Travis Roberts’ love life problems isn’t a concern to me. Maybe you should go talk to Kiseragi about this. I’m sure he’d be highly interested. Not about Mary-Jo mind you…”
“Fine,” eD responded, with a sigh. He began heading to the door and opened it on arrival. As he stepped through the threshold, he spoke once more. “But just think about one thing. What if your positions were reversed. What if it was Cara betraying you? What if she was trying to ruin your life? How would that affect you, Mr. Prescott?”
The door slammed shut behind the yellow creature, as Declan’s jaw was left hanging wide and he fell to his knees. The pain in his chest. It stung so badly. What was this feeling?! And why wouldn’t it leave?!
“Baby,” Cara said, emerging from the bedroom, nervously pulling on her shirt sleeve. “You okay?” she asked, as she reached him.
He slammed his arms around her hips and stuffed his face into her stomach, unable to hold the tears back any longer.
“Whatever comes,” he wept. “No matter what, we’ll face it together. I promise.”
* * * * *
“Doug! Thank God I got here in time. They tell me you’re checking out!”
“That’s right,” Maguire replied, adjusting his sleek, navy blue tie. “I’m coming back to work tomorrow. Hope they didn’t give you a new partner while I was away, Franks.”
“Doug!” Franks spat. “You’re not ready! You only came out of your coma a few days ago. I can’t believe they’re even letting you checkout!”
“Well it’s not like I asked. I’m a grown man and I know when I’m okay. So can you give me a lift to my place?”
“Please, Doug! Just stay in the hospital. You need to rest and recover. That’s the best thing you can do while the rest of us try to catch the motherfucker that did this to you!”
Maguire’s hands froze and his tie fell loose. “Yes,” he said. “Just what did happen to me?”
“WHAT?!” Franks blurted, without any control. “You mean you don’t remember?! We found you almost dead at a carnival. We were hoping you’d be able to tell us who did this!”
“Sorry Franks,” Maguire said, smirking unnaturally. “But I have no idea who did this. The last thing I remember is… Selena. What happened to her?! Is she alright?!”
Maguire thrust his entire frame towards Franks, causing the ageing, chubby detective to take two extremely slow steps backwards. He placed one hand on his hip and placed the other in front of his former partner, his palm facing outwards, telling Maguire to proceed no further.
“Tell me Franks! What did Prescott and his whore do to my Selena?!”
“Nothing,” Franks said in the calmest voice he could muster. “They didn’t do anything to your car.”
“MY CAR?!” he bellowed. “SHE’S NOT A CAR! I LOVE HER!”
“Douglas, you just need to relax, okay?” Franks said, attempting to soothe the wild beast. “We’re gonna work everything out, we just need a bit of time to get everything sorted. So just relax, yeah?”
“It’s hard to relax, when you’ve got one hand on your gun, Ben!” he sneered.
“I’m just concerned,” Franks replied. “I don’t want you doing something rash. I don’t want you to get hurt, Doug. You’re my friend.”
The recently recovered detective began cackling loudly and Franks instantly unbuckled his pistol’s harness. Maguire looked from the weapon, into Franks’ eyes and smiled hugely, his deranged yellow teeth filling Benjamin Franks with absolute dread.
“I always stood for justice, Ben,” he began. “To always work within the law, but to always correct the law’s mistakes when it failed the people.”
“Doug, what do you mean - ”
“He raped her, Ben,” Maguire continued, ignoring the question. “Or at least he tried to. Either way she killed him defending herself. But they lied. Both of them. They said that nothing happened. That Cara wasn’t there. I don’t understand why they would lie. But once they did, they went against the law. Citizens are expected to be honest and diligent contributors to society. But in my quest for justice, I became what I hate. I tried to blackmail Andy Savana. Threatened to expose his secret to the entire world. But in exchange for his help, I would keep that secret. Pretend I knew nothing. I lied to you. I lied to the Lieutenant. And the Captain. I lied to myself. Convinced myself it was okay, as long as I was doing it to find justice.”
“Doug, what are you talking about? What secret?!”
“Honestly… I don’t remember,” he replied, chuckling and Franks smiled falsely in return.
“And then I ended up in here,” Maguire stated. “The doctor told me I was dead for almost a minute. I got what I deserved.”
“No - ”
“I paid for my crimes. And I was reborn, with a fresh slate. Like a phoenix from the ashes.”
“Doug, just slow down, here. There’s no rush to do anything! Just keep cool and we’ll - ”
“I kill people, Ben,” he confessed, staring blankly at his shoes.
“We only ever fire our weapon to save a life!” Franks protested. “You know that Doug! We’re the good guys! Honest cops like you and me!”
“I,” Maguire corrected. “You and I. But you’re wrong. I don’t always use my gun. Sometimes it’s a knife. Sometimes a saw. Sometimes even my own body.”
“You’re scaring me, Doug!” Franks pleaded. “Just sit down and we’ll get you some help! Everything’s gonna be fi - ”
“I just saw so much death and decay in this world. I needed to clean it all up. To do my part in saving this society. It was my mission to destroy the corrupt and eradicate those who mock our laws. To protect those who are unable to protect themselves. It made me feel… something other than nothingness.
“But I became consumed by one single case. Not even an important case. I don’t blame Cara for killing that piece of shit. But her refusal to stand before the law and take responsibility for her actions is unacceptable. She’s a killer and she has to admit that. I tried doing it the proper way. The way we usually do it. But Declan’s sharp mind and vast amounts of money mean I’ll never be able to get a conviction. Which leaves only one other option.”
“What’s that?” Franks inquired with a whisper, fearing the answer.
“It means the law has failed,” Maguire stated, still staring at the floor. “It means I have to kill them.”
“DON’T FUCKIN’ MOVE!” Franks roared, ripping the pistol from its holder and placing it, with trembling hands, squarely on Douglas Maguire.
“Please, Franks,” Maguire mused. “Bullets can’t kill me.”
“THIS IS DETECTIVE BENJAMIN FRANKS!” he bellowed into his radio. “I’M AT THE HOSPITAL AND I NEED BACK - ARGH!!!!!”
With one fluid movement, the sleek Maguire had wrapped both his hands around the lumbering Franks’ pistol. Maguire smashed his forehead into the nose of Franks, sending the chubby man toppling to the now blood stained floor.
“YOU BROKE MY NOSE!” he spat. “WHAT THE FUCK, DOUG?! I’M YOUR PARTNER! I’M YOUR FRIE - ”
“YOU STOOD IN THE WAY OF JUSTICE!” Maguire roared, an unholy fury empowering his words.
Franks didn’t speak. His bulging, tear filled eyes said more than words ever could. The fear, the defeat, the inkling of hope. It was a sight Maguire had seen so many times before. But never like this. Something was different.
It was no matter.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
With three echoing shots, Benjamin Franks was dead. His sweaty, round frame now completely motionless. Maguire could already hear the footsteps rushing toward him. But he was out of the room, down the hall and racing out the fire escape within a matter of seconds. It would be more difficult now that he was a fugitive and not an enforcer. But his life was already forfeit. He had to die in order to learn that. Only one, final thing mattered now. That his mission succeeded.
That Declan and Cara Prescott died.
