Post by T-Robosaurus Rex on Jul 22, 2009 19:30:48 GMT -5
[He stands still in front of a cold grey building, his body silhouetted by the final beams of a setting sun, not moving an inch, even as a small, unidentified, bird flies low directly past his face. He just stands, holding a piece of paper, staring at it in deep thought. Briefly we see the bottom half of the note, the words seem to have been scribbled with some haste and it reads: 2323 Frank Lloyd Wright Avenue. Then we quickly revert to the view from behind this lone figure, standing as the sun sets in leather jacket and jeans, almost paralysed in a state of shock.
We then view ‘The Headliner’ from the front, his face too is frozen, just as his entire lanky frame is, in one fixed expression; that can only be described as confused anticipation and dread. He takes a moment to look down at the note, and then back to the building, his mouth not fully open, but gaping enough to give emphasise his state of mind. He slowly reaches up to his face and removes his Aviator Sunglasses and once again glances at the note, in case the UV Protected lenses were distorting its content, the look on his face suggests this is not the case. He reaches into his top pocket without thinking and removes a pre-rolled delicacy and slowly places it between his lips before rummaging for a lighter. After a second, he stops still again, removes the delicacy from his mouth, and just stares at it for a moment, and then back towards the building he is facing. After a few moments deliberation he chooses to place the pre-rolled back in his top pocket.
After what seems like an eternity, he decides now is the time to continue with forward momentum, and begins to walk, less assured than ever, towards the building in front of him. As he begins to climb up the steps, the camera swings to the side, where a sign displays the name and address of the establishment Travis Roberts, GIW Unified Global Champion is entering;
He climbs the stairs leading to the entrance of the establishment slowly, with an air of trepidation about his gait. He finally reaches the top, and stands before the double doors that lead inside the hospital, he then takes one last look at the note, then towards a waste receptacle with an ashtray on the top, he screws the note up, tosses it in the metal bowl, and sets light to it. We watch as the flames engulf the white paper, turning it to smoke, and as it unravels we get a glimpse of the solitary word at the top, above the hand scrawled address, it simply says:
And then the note is gone, as ‘The Headliner’ pushes his way through the double doors and out of shot...]
Meanwhile, back at the GIW Arena...
[The view could not be any more different than before, we see a huge box, seemingly moving of its own accord down the GIW Arena Corridor. Its top open, we see a few things poking out of the top, an umbrella, the head of a broom, a small ornamental yappy type dog, and a pair of knitting needles. The Box also seems to be either drunk or blind, as it stumbles down the corridor, weaving from side to side, forcing nameless GIW Employee’s to dive out of its way. As it gets closer, it becomes clear that this is not a magical container that follows its owner at its own pace, but merely a normal box, being carried by someone who cannot see over its immense size. Usually it would be the sight of the human legs protruding from below that would signal this to be the case, not on this occasion though. For all the boxes magnificent height and size, it is still not wide enough to cover the extremities of Tate Levene’s chunky midsection. As this realisation dawns, the Box, and Tate make a sudden turn, and walk through a door to a room we have yet to visit.
Standing beyond the doorway, in an empty locker room, is none other than Old Lady Levene, she is ticking things of a list in a notepad as Tate manages to struggle through the doorway and almost drops the box onto the floor. As the container lands on the floor Tate falls backwards against the wall and slowly slides to the ground. His face is read and covered in sweat, he is breathing heavily, and his eyeballs bulge after the extreme effort he has just put in. Old LadyLeven looks down at him, cocks her head and smiles...]
Old Lady Levene – ‘See, you can be a good boy Tate, hard work isn’t something to be avoided...a lesson your employer has seemingly neglected to teach you. Where is Travis anyway? He shouldn’t be leaving all the hard work to us, all he did was rush through the request for my own room.’
Tate – ‘He...*pants*...had...*coughs*....to...*chokes*...*coughs*...go out...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘That’s very convenient, he happens to disappear merely minutes before any hard work had to be done. Did he tell you what was so important...’
Tate – ‘He...*cough*...*splutter*...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘For heaven’s sake Tate, will you use your enhaler...’
Tate – ‘Forg...*cough*...*wheezes*...Forgo....*splutter*....*cough*...Forgot i...*cough*’
Old Lady Levene – ‘You forgot it? You know how spring and summer effect your allergies and asthma, not to mention anything that barely resembles exercise, how could you forget your inhaler....do you want to die?’
Tate – ‘Right...*cough*...about now...*wheeze*....*splutter*...the idea...*chokes*...*splutters*....is appealing...*cough*...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘I can tell the short time you’ve spent with Travis is already having a bad influence on you. If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all...’
[Old Lady Levene then looks down and starts rummaging in her handbag, that seemingly contains a plethora of different objects for many different occasions, she pulls out a corkscrew, a tin opener, a flashlight, a grape alarm (?), a small packet of Tulip Seeds...and the list goes on. Old Lady Levene’s handbag could almost be described as a ‘Swiss Army Bag’. After a few moments, she lets out a triumphant ‘Aha!’, and then pulls an inhaler out the depths of the accessory and stands over her grandson as she hands it to him, and he grabs it and squeezes it into his mouth]
Old Lady Levene – ‘I shudder to think what would happen if I wasn’t here. Can you imagine if I outlived my own grandson...terrible...’
Tate – ‘If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have been carrying the heaviest box in LA from the car park to this office...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Exercise is good for you.’
Tate – ‘No...no it’s not. It nearly killed me, if anything it’s very dangerous to my health...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Your OK aren’t you? It didn’t kill you did it? I don’t see what your complaining about.’
Tate – ‘The only reason I’m alive is because you happened to have an inhaler on you, if you hadn’t been here, exercise would have killed me!’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Just as I said, I’d hate to think what would happen if I wasn’t here.’
[Tate looks at his Gran, and a look of realisation slowly crosses his face as he realises he has indeed just proved her point. He slumps further down against the wall in a display of frustration. Old Lady Levene just stands above him with a look of justification and pride, before asking him another question]
Old Lady Levene – ‘So what was so important Travis couldn’t help with moving my things in? The White House needed someone smug and self-centred immediately?’
Tate – ‘No...at least I don’t think so...someone slipped a note under his door, and he just went pale....like really pale, and then left, just said he’d be back when he was finished...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Shouldn’t he be here? He’s only a day away from his next match isn’t he? Shouldn’t he be preparing?’
Tate – ‘Travis knows what he’s doing, he always knows best. I mean, you’d think he’d be preparing extra hard, given it is a handicap match, but this is just Travis’ way...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Tate dear, do try to remember I am new to this world, what is a handicap match, and how does it change Travis’ preparations?...Wait...oh god...he’s not going to be pummelling a vegetablised human being is he?’
Tate – ‘No...No...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘For the first time since I encountered this company I am pleasantly surprised...given the sort of things they do, I wouldn’t put it past them to schedule a match with a brain-dead quadriplegic...’
Tate – ‘Travis would possibly argue that he is facing two brain-dead quadriplegic vegetables if you asked him...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Two?’
Tate – ‘Yeah, that’s what a handicap match, when one team has more members than the other, tomorrow it’s Travis taking on both ‘Diamond’ Jack and Gabrielle...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘A WOMAN!?!?’
Tate – ‘Calm down Gran...it’s what she wants, she’s the one Travis is fighting in Japan for his title, her boyfriend gave her his shot...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Just when I thought this place could get no closer to Sodom and Gommorrah...I find it’s practically twinned with them...I think it’s time you told me a little more...’
[At this point, old Lady Levene finds a steel chair, and pulls it towards her grandson, sits down and leans in, as out scene fades out.]
Back at Belleview Psychiatric Institution
[He stands looking paler than ever, staring through his shaded Aviators, directly in front of a closed door, with a small glass window, the glass itself contains safety wire, to ensure nothing can escape the room beyond even in the event of the glass being smashed. His lips move, but no sound protrudes them, ‘The Headliner’ appears to be in an almost trance like state.
The view then moves to over Travis’ shoulder and we bear witness to the sight within the room. Through the window we see Cara Precott (ne Costello) sitting on a bed, wearing a simple white top and white slacks. She is perched on the end of the bed, clasping her knee’s to her chest, and staring, clutching a piece of paper in her hands, though to spoil the cliché she is not rocking backwards and forwards. Her face is illuminated by the sporadically flashing glow from an unseen TV, one she seems entranced by.
Suddenly a female hand shoots into the frame and taps the headliner on his shoulder. Travis turns slowly and faces a young nurse who looks at him with an expression that can be described as concern.]
Nurse – ‘Ummm...would you like to go inside Mr Roberts...it’s perfectly safe...’
[Travis just stares back at the Nurse, his lips still moving...]
Nurse – ‘The only reason I ask is you’ve been out here for thirty minutes now, and visiting hours will be over in an hour or so...she’s not dangerous, you can go in...’
[Travis’ lips cease their movement and he turns his head from the Nurse, back to the window and then back to the young lady with the full grasp on her faculties...]
Travis – ‘Thirty Minutes?...’The Blessed One’ didn’t realise...she...she hasn’t noticed in thrity minutes, she’s just been straring at the TV...she hasn’t even glanced...’
Nurse – ‘Yes...well...she is very insular, she rarely acknowledges the presence of anyone...even the gentleman that brought her in, when he visits the most she does is glance at him for a few seconds before sharply turning away...she’s obviously been through such a lot....if only we knew what it was...’
Travis – ‘Yes...if only...’
[Travis looks back into the room, but all of a sudden his eyes widen as he realises an important fact has been divulged to him...]
Travis – ‘You said a man brought her in? Who was it, did he give you a name....was it a young man called Declan Prescott?’
[The nurse’s eyes turn upwards as she tries to recollect]
Nurse – ‘Young....no...not Prescott...he sometimes visits...I think his name was....Woodworm....or something.’
[Travis’ new found enthusiasm slowly drains away and the brief flash of colour that had tinted his skin upon the possibility that Declan could be found fades as soon as the truth is realised.]
Travis – ‘Oh...’
Nurse – ‘Anyway, I thought I’d just check on you, I have a patient to give a sponge bath...if you require any assistance follow the sound of me slapping someone...’
[The nurse turns and walks away from Travis, who doesn’t even spend a moment to observe her finely crafted derriere swing down the hall, she looks over her shoulder to see Travis turned back to the door. He pinches the roof of his nose, before speaking to himself...]
Travis – ‘You can’t blame yourself...’
[He then places his hand, that is visibly shaking, onto the door handle, and slowly pulls the door open...]
Back in the GIW Arena
[Another door faces us, this time it’s not windowed, it merely has a sign on it, which reads ‘Gabrielle Montgomery’, and almost as soon as we have finished reading those two word a hand proceeds to rap lightly on the door. As the view pulls out we see the hand belongs to the elderly body of Old Lady Levene. Who stands in front of the door, putting both hands on her handbag that is situated directly in the middle of her body. The door slowly swings open, but there seems to be no-one on the other end. Old Lady Levene cautiously pokes her head into the room, and we can see it is lit only by a few candles, Old Lady Levene sniffs the air, and a look of confusion spreads over her.
Old Lady Levene scans the room, and then we see, silhouetted against the candlelight the outline of Gabrielle, wrapped in a towel with her back to the door. After a few moments the towel drops to the floor, revealing in the flickering candle light the curvaceous body of the last ever GIW Women’s Champion.]
Gabrielle: Glad you could make it!
Old Lady Levene – ‘Clearly...’
[Gabrielle looks over her shoulder and a look of shock and humiliation spreads across her face as she sees the disapproving figure of Old Lady Levene standing in the doorway...]
Gabrielle: Oh my god!...ummm, excuse me...I thought you were someone else, let me get my robe
[Gabrielle quickly squats down, as respectably as is possible in the situation, and grabs her toqwel before dashing to the bathroom to collect her robe. The candles continue to flicker...]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Yes, I think that would be appropriate in the circumstances...’
Candle – ‘Of course you do, prude! But I bet you and Old Man tate used to get freaky! Hyuk Hyuk Hyuk...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘What in the name of...’
Candle – ‘Shhhhh! Don’t mention this to anyone...they’ll put you in a home. You’ll have a nurse and they’ll treat you like a child, never speak of this moment again...’
[Light suddenly fills the room as Gabrielle flicks the main light switch on and emerges from her bathroom wrapped in an oriental silk gown, she tosses her hair behind her head, before moving around the room and blowing the candles out]
Candle – ‘Hee hee...that tickles...’
[You could almost think Gabby smiles a little, before ignoring the candle giggles and turning back to Old Lady Levene...]
Gabrielle:You’re Tate’s Gran, how can I help you? Have you found out your grandson and Travis are doing unspeakable things to one another? Because if your hoping that I’ll do you a favour and use my irresistible charms to turn your grandson straight again, I’m afraid I don’t do fat.[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Young lady, you obviously have no appreciation for my relationship with my grandson. If he was a queer I’d accept it...to be perfectly honest with you I would be overjoyed if he had a passion for anything other than food. I dread to think what he gets up to with Chocolate Cake at night...his sheets....Covered in it! But that’s not why I’m here missy, it seems to me you need someone to give you a good talking to...’
Gabrielle: No disrespect M’aam, but I doubt we have that much in common, our fashion styles clearly clash...
Old Lady Levene – No deary, I wouldn’t dream of trying to impart any fashion advice on you, you are quite clearly set on the trashy look. And I have to say, you are one of a select few women that can pull it off without looking like a single mother of twelve. But thats why I’m here to speak to you about, you have a wonderful bone structure, a flawless complexion...you really are classic beauty. What I don’t understand why you are hell bent on becoming a disfigured cautionary tale...’
Gabrielle: I’m sure that makes sense to you, shouldn’t someone be with you? I didn’t think they let people with severe Alzheimer’s wander around on their own, especially somewhere as dangerous as a wrestling arena...[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Ah you are obviously a classic case of beauty over brains. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in the company of Travis Roberts, do you really think I’d still be here if witty put downs bothered me? Or do you actually think you do it better than my Grandson’s employer? Either way I think I can see why you’d be so misguided as to take on a grown man in a fight, even if your boyfriend is there to protect you.’
Gabrielle: I would have thought you would have approved. It was your generation that fought for women’s rights, I imagine you were alive not long after women first won the right to vote. I’m just showing we are equal to men here in GIW, that we women can rise to the top. Surely it’s the natural progression in sports, that we’ve seen across the rest of the society?
Old Lady Levene – ‘Suffrage is overrated. A woman’s first place is to be a homemaker, to be there for your husband and your children. If you can hold down a job at the same time, congratulations, but first and foremost you should be there to support your husband, to sacrifice your own wants and needs for them, that’s what a real woman does...’
Gabrielle: I’m sorry, but I disagree. Why should a woman devote her life to someone else....a true relationship should be equal...’[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘I wouldn’t expect any other kind of foggy thinking from a child who has grown up during this era of decadence and sin. And given your actions in the past you’d have to think that way to excuse the fact you are responsible for the complete emasculation of your own man...’
Gabrielle: I have done no such thing...
Old Lady Levene – ‘Oh come now Honey, yes you have and you know it. You’ve metaphorically castrated jack in front of millions of people on live TV over the past few months. Making him beg, you never make a man beg, it takes away his pride, his soul. Not to mention flirting and cavorting with all types whilst he got on his knees and begged for your return. Then to take his career, his title shot...I can only imagine you want him to seem like a weak and pathetic man, purely so no-one will ever think of stealing him from you.’
Gabrielle: No...No...you’ve got it all wrong, I would never do anything to hurt Jack...’[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Of course you wouldn’t, that’s why you gladly took his title shot away from him, so you could challenge for the title. I do wonder whether you realised it would be in Japan, and that it was going to be a very violent match...the kind of match that could have made your man a huge star, a worldwide icon...and a match that will probably disfigure and scar you for life...whatever it may be...’
[Before Gabrielle can respond, the door bursts open, and Diamond Jack backs through, beaming and holding a tub of massage oil in one hand a pineapple in the other...]
’Diamond’ Jack: Did I hear another voice...you are akinky girl...who is it this ti....Oh..[/b]
[Jack turns round and see’s Old Lady Levene standing in front of his partner, you can see him almost die of shock. But rather than make comment Old Lady Levene merely smiles, raises her eyebrows and makes her leave from the room, as the scene fades out once more]
Back at Belleview
[Travis sits on a chair, leaning forwards towards the bed of Cara, who is still sat as before, mesmerised by the TV]
Travis – ‘That pretty much updates you on everything since you left. So yeah, if Gabby taking ‘Diamond’ Jacks shot wasn’t enough, she’s doing it at No Holds Barred...Travis Roberts wonders whether she saw last years...and what happened to Declan....’
[He looks up at Cara, hoping to see a glimmer of a reaction, the faintest hint that something still lives inside the empty void that is Cara Prescott’s still body. But to no avail, she sits fixated the TV, clutching the sheet of paper tightly]
TV - ‘THE THE WORLD OF WRESTLING CONTINUES TO BECOME MORE VIOLENT AND DENGEROUS WITH EVERY DAY, THE RECENT ATTACK ON XFWORUFFTVWXX WRESTLING’S WORLD FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL HEAVYWEIGHT UNDIPSUTED ULTRA-MEGA SUPER AWESOME CHAMPION OF THE UNIVERSE, REDBLADE WGHICH LEFT HIM IN A COMA, IS JUST THE LATEST OF A STRING OF HIGH PROFILE OCCURANCES IN RECENT WEEKS, POLICE ARE STILL ON THE HUNT FOR MAIN SUSPECT, FELLOW XFWORUFFTVWXX STAR, PETER DAMASCUS, STILL CONTINUES...
[The door to the room swings open, and a doctor with a large, bushy unkempt beard, and long unstyled brown hair walks into the room and addresses Travis]
Doctor – ‘I’m afraid visiting time is almost over, Travis’
[‘The Headliner’ doesn’t notice the use of his first name, and it takes him a few moments to realise he is being spoken to before he turns and rises to greet the doctor...]
Travis – ‘’The Headliner’ couldn’t just watch over her could he?’
Declan – ‘I’m afraid that’s against hospital policy...dude...’
Travis – ‘Oh...what’s wrong with her...she used to be so...engaged.’
Doctor – ‘We’re not sure, whatever it is though, it didn’t happen overnight, it grew over a period of time, close to a year we assume...someone should have helped her...’
[The Doctor’s face forms as frown, and his eyes express deep remorse...but Travis doesn’t note any of this]
Travis – ‘Yeah...shouldn’t have been so preoccupied hunting their own glory...’
[Travis face also expresses the look of inward guilt that crosses that of the doctor, but nreither man seems to be paying attention to the other]
Doctor – ‘Afterall, there were signs, it’s not like it came out of nowhere...if only somebody had been a little less obsessed with their career...’
Travis – ‘Deep down...they knew, knew not everything was right, but ignored it...just kept focusing on themselves...their own petty problems...’
Doctor – ‘As if what a penguin did was more important than her life...’
Travis – ‘She doesn’t deserve this...’
Doctor – ‘Was it worth it...whatever vain accolade they wanted, was it worth this?’
Travis – ‘They’re going to have to live with this for the rest of their lives...’
[Both men look down at Cara, who hasn’t flinched from the TV, fixated by the ongoing investigative report into violence in professional wrestling. Both men, then turn, wordlessly, not making eye contact with one another and leave the room. The Doctor turns right, Travis. As the Doctor passes two nurses one turns to the other an remarks.]
Nurse – ‘I didn;t know we had a new Doctor...he looks like a Hobo...’
[The camera catches up with the Doctor who turns a corner, and removes the white coat, to reveal tattered and torn clothing. He then speaks a sentence to himself.]
Damascus – ‘I[/b] I should have done more...’[/color]
[The view switches back to Travis Roberts, who emerges into the night air, he looks from side to side and then makes his way down the steps, when he reaches the bottom he turns his head back towards the building, and then utters one sentence to himself]
travis – ‘I[/i] should have done more...’[/color]
[As Travis walks off into the sunset, the view switches once more, to a television screen, with a photo of Peter Damascus taking up the full view. The words: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN, flash underneath the image. The view then pulls back to see Cara in the same position, in the dark with only the glow of the TV illuminating her face. We then get a close up view of Cara’s face, no expression, eyes wide open...but just as the scene fades out for the last time, we see a single tear roll down her left cheek, before darkness engulfs the screen]
We then view ‘The Headliner’ from the front, his face too is frozen, just as his entire lanky frame is, in one fixed expression; that can only be described as confused anticipation and dread. He takes a moment to look down at the note, and then back to the building, his mouth not fully open, but gaping enough to give emphasise his state of mind. He slowly reaches up to his face and removes his Aviator Sunglasses and once again glances at the note, in case the UV Protected lenses were distorting its content, the look on his face suggests this is not the case. He reaches into his top pocket without thinking and removes a pre-rolled delicacy and slowly places it between his lips before rummaging for a lighter. After a second, he stops still again, removes the delicacy from his mouth, and just stares at it for a moment, and then back towards the building he is facing. After a few moments deliberation he chooses to place the pre-rolled back in his top pocket.
After what seems like an eternity, he decides now is the time to continue with forward momentum, and begins to walk, less assured than ever, towards the building in front of him. As he begins to climb up the steps, the camera swings to the side, where a sign displays the name and address of the establishment Travis Roberts, GIW Unified Global Champion is entering;
Belleview Psychiatric Institution
2323 Frank Lloyd Wright Avenue
[/i]2323 Frank Lloyd Wright Avenue
He climbs the stairs leading to the entrance of the establishment slowly, with an air of trepidation about his gait. He finally reaches the top, and stands before the double doors that lead inside the hospital, he then takes one last look at the note, then towards a waste receptacle with an ashtray on the top, he screws the note up, tosses it in the metal bowl, and sets light to it. We watch as the flames engulf the white paper, turning it to smoke, and as it unravels we get a glimpse of the solitary word at the top, above the hand scrawled address, it simply says:
Cara
[/i]And then the note is gone, as ‘The Headliner’ pushes his way through the double doors and out of shot...]
Meanwhile, back at the GIW Arena...
[The view could not be any more different than before, we see a huge box, seemingly moving of its own accord down the GIW Arena Corridor. Its top open, we see a few things poking out of the top, an umbrella, the head of a broom, a small ornamental yappy type dog, and a pair of knitting needles. The Box also seems to be either drunk or blind, as it stumbles down the corridor, weaving from side to side, forcing nameless GIW Employee’s to dive out of its way. As it gets closer, it becomes clear that this is not a magical container that follows its owner at its own pace, but merely a normal box, being carried by someone who cannot see over its immense size. Usually it would be the sight of the human legs protruding from below that would signal this to be the case, not on this occasion though. For all the boxes magnificent height and size, it is still not wide enough to cover the extremities of Tate Levene’s chunky midsection. As this realisation dawns, the Box, and Tate make a sudden turn, and walk through a door to a room we have yet to visit.
Standing beyond the doorway, in an empty locker room, is none other than Old Lady Levene, she is ticking things of a list in a notepad as Tate manages to struggle through the doorway and almost drops the box onto the floor. As the container lands on the floor Tate falls backwards against the wall and slowly slides to the ground. His face is read and covered in sweat, he is breathing heavily, and his eyeballs bulge after the extreme effort he has just put in. Old LadyLeven looks down at him, cocks her head and smiles...]
Old Lady Levene – ‘See, you can be a good boy Tate, hard work isn’t something to be avoided...a lesson your employer has seemingly neglected to teach you. Where is Travis anyway? He shouldn’t be leaving all the hard work to us, all he did was rush through the request for my own room.’
Tate – ‘He...*pants*...had...*coughs*....to...*chokes*...*coughs*...go out...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘That’s very convenient, he happens to disappear merely minutes before any hard work had to be done. Did he tell you what was so important...’
Tate – ‘He...*cough*...*splutter*...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘For heaven’s sake Tate, will you use your enhaler...’
Tate – ‘Forg...*cough*...*wheezes*...Forgo....*splutter*....*cough*...Forgot i...*cough*’
Old Lady Levene – ‘You forgot it? You know how spring and summer effect your allergies and asthma, not to mention anything that barely resembles exercise, how could you forget your inhaler....do you want to die?’
Tate – ‘Right...*cough*...about now...*wheeze*....*splutter*...the idea...*chokes*...*splutters*....is appealing...*cough*...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘I can tell the short time you’ve spent with Travis is already having a bad influence on you. If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all...’
[Old Lady Levene then looks down and starts rummaging in her handbag, that seemingly contains a plethora of different objects for many different occasions, she pulls out a corkscrew, a tin opener, a flashlight, a grape alarm (?), a small packet of Tulip Seeds...and the list goes on. Old Lady Levene’s handbag could almost be described as a ‘Swiss Army Bag’. After a few moments, she lets out a triumphant ‘Aha!’, and then pulls an inhaler out the depths of the accessory and stands over her grandson as she hands it to him, and he grabs it and squeezes it into his mouth]
Old Lady Levene – ‘I shudder to think what would happen if I wasn’t here. Can you imagine if I outlived my own grandson...terrible...’
Tate – ‘If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have been carrying the heaviest box in LA from the car park to this office...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Exercise is good for you.’
Tate – ‘No...no it’s not. It nearly killed me, if anything it’s very dangerous to my health...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Your OK aren’t you? It didn’t kill you did it? I don’t see what your complaining about.’
Tate – ‘The only reason I’m alive is because you happened to have an inhaler on you, if you hadn’t been here, exercise would have killed me!’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Just as I said, I’d hate to think what would happen if I wasn’t here.’
[Tate looks at his Gran, and a look of realisation slowly crosses his face as he realises he has indeed just proved her point. He slumps further down against the wall in a display of frustration. Old Lady Levene just stands above him with a look of justification and pride, before asking him another question]
Old Lady Levene – ‘So what was so important Travis couldn’t help with moving my things in? The White House needed someone smug and self-centred immediately?’
Tate – ‘No...at least I don’t think so...someone slipped a note under his door, and he just went pale....like really pale, and then left, just said he’d be back when he was finished...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Shouldn’t he be here? He’s only a day away from his next match isn’t he? Shouldn’t he be preparing?’
Tate – ‘Travis knows what he’s doing, he always knows best. I mean, you’d think he’d be preparing extra hard, given it is a handicap match, but this is just Travis’ way...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Tate dear, do try to remember I am new to this world, what is a handicap match, and how does it change Travis’ preparations?...Wait...oh god...he’s not going to be pummelling a vegetablised human being is he?’
Tate – ‘No...No...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘For the first time since I encountered this company I am pleasantly surprised...given the sort of things they do, I wouldn’t put it past them to schedule a match with a brain-dead quadriplegic...’
Tate – ‘Travis would possibly argue that he is facing two brain-dead quadriplegic vegetables if you asked him...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Two?’
Tate – ‘Yeah, that’s what a handicap match, when one team has more members than the other, tomorrow it’s Travis taking on both ‘Diamond’ Jack and Gabrielle...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘A WOMAN!?!?’
Tate – ‘Calm down Gran...it’s what she wants, she’s the one Travis is fighting in Japan for his title, her boyfriend gave her his shot...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Just when I thought this place could get no closer to Sodom and Gommorrah...I find it’s practically twinned with them...I think it’s time you told me a little more...’
[At this point, old Lady Levene finds a steel chair, and pulls it towards her grandson, sits down and leans in, as out scene fades out.]
Back at Belleview Psychiatric Institution
[He stands looking paler than ever, staring through his shaded Aviators, directly in front of a closed door, with a small glass window, the glass itself contains safety wire, to ensure nothing can escape the room beyond even in the event of the glass being smashed. His lips move, but no sound protrudes them, ‘The Headliner’ appears to be in an almost trance like state.
The view then moves to over Travis’ shoulder and we bear witness to the sight within the room. Through the window we see Cara Precott (ne Costello) sitting on a bed, wearing a simple white top and white slacks. She is perched on the end of the bed, clasping her knee’s to her chest, and staring, clutching a piece of paper in her hands, though to spoil the cliché she is not rocking backwards and forwards. Her face is illuminated by the sporadically flashing glow from an unseen TV, one she seems entranced by.
Suddenly a female hand shoots into the frame and taps the headliner on his shoulder. Travis turns slowly and faces a young nurse who looks at him with an expression that can be described as concern.]
Nurse – ‘Ummm...would you like to go inside Mr Roberts...it’s perfectly safe...’
[Travis just stares back at the Nurse, his lips still moving...]
Nurse – ‘The only reason I ask is you’ve been out here for thirty minutes now, and visiting hours will be over in an hour or so...she’s not dangerous, you can go in...’
[Travis’ lips cease their movement and he turns his head from the Nurse, back to the window and then back to the young lady with the full grasp on her faculties...]
Travis – ‘Thirty Minutes?...’The Blessed One’ didn’t realise...she...she hasn’t noticed in thrity minutes, she’s just been straring at the TV...she hasn’t even glanced...’
Nurse – ‘Yes...well...she is very insular, she rarely acknowledges the presence of anyone...even the gentleman that brought her in, when he visits the most she does is glance at him for a few seconds before sharply turning away...she’s obviously been through such a lot....if only we knew what it was...’
Travis – ‘Yes...if only...’
[Travis looks back into the room, but all of a sudden his eyes widen as he realises an important fact has been divulged to him...]
Travis – ‘You said a man brought her in? Who was it, did he give you a name....was it a young man called Declan Prescott?’
[The nurse’s eyes turn upwards as she tries to recollect]
Nurse – ‘Young....no...not Prescott...he sometimes visits...I think his name was....Woodworm....or something.’
[Travis’ new found enthusiasm slowly drains away and the brief flash of colour that had tinted his skin upon the possibility that Declan could be found fades as soon as the truth is realised.]
Travis – ‘Oh...’
Nurse – ‘Anyway, I thought I’d just check on you, I have a patient to give a sponge bath...if you require any assistance follow the sound of me slapping someone...’
[The nurse turns and walks away from Travis, who doesn’t even spend a moment to observe her finely crafted derriere swing down the hall, she looks over her shoulder to see Travis turned back to the door. He pinches the roof of his nose, before speaking to himself...]
Travis – ‘You can’t blame yourself...’
[He then places his hand, that is visibly shaking, onto the door handle, and slowly pulls the door open...]
Back in the GIW Arena
[Another door faces us, this time it’s not windowed, it merely has a sign on it, which reads ‘Gabrielle Montgomery’, and almost as soon as we have finished reading those two word a hand proceeds to rap lightly on the door. As the view pulls out we see the hand belongs to the elderly body of Old Lady Levene. Who stands in front of the door, putting both hands on her handbag that is situated directly in the middle of her body. The door slowly swings open, but there seems to be no-one on the other end. Old Lady Levene cautiously pokes her head into the room, and we can see it is lit only by a few candles, Old Lady Levene sniffs the air, and a look of confusion spreads over her.
Old Lady Levene scans the room, and then we see, silhouetted against the candlelight the outline of Gabrielle, wrapped in a towel with her back to the door. After a few moments the towel drops to the floor, revealing in the flickering candle light the curvaceous body of the last ever GIW Women’s Champion.]
Gabrielle: Glad you could make it!
Old Lady Levene – ‘Clearly...’
[Gabrielle looks over her shoulder and a look of shock and humiliation spreads across her face as she sees the disapproving figure of Old Lady Levene standing in the doorway...]
Gabrielle: Oh my god!...ummm, excuse me...I thought you were someone else, let me get my robe
[Gabrielle quickly squats down, as respectably as is possible in the situation, and grabs her toqwel before dashing to the bathroom to collect her robe. The candles continue to flicker...]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Yes, I think that would be appropriate in the circumstances...’
Candle – ‘Of course you do, prude! But I bet you and Old Man tate used to get freaky! Hyuk Hyuk Hyuk...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘What in the name of...’
Candle – ‘Shhhhh! Don’t mention this to anyone...they’ll put you in a home. You’ll have a nurse and they’ll treat you like a child, never speak of this moment again...’
[Light suddenly fills the room as Gabrielle flicks the main light switch on and emerges from her bathroom wrapped in an oriental silk gown, she tosses her hair behind her head, before moving around the room and blowing the candles out]
Candle – ‘Hee hee...that tickles...’
[You could almost think Gabby smiles a little, before ignoring the candle giggles and turning back to Old Lady Levene...]
Gabrielle:You’re Tate’s Gran, how can I help you? Have you found out your grandson and Travis are doing unspeakable things to one another? Because if your hoping that I’ll do you a favour and use my irresistible charms to turn your grandson straight again, I’m afraid I don’t do fat.[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Young lady, you obviously have no appreciation for my relationship with my grandson. If he was a queer I’d accept it...to be perfectly honest with you I would be overjoyed if he had a passion for anything other than food. I dread to think what he gets up to with Chocolate Cake at night...his sheets....Covered in it! But that’s not why I’m here missy, it seems to me you need someone to give you a good talking to...’
Gabrielle: No disrespect M’aam, but I doubt we have that much in common, our fashion styles clearly clash...
Old Lady Levene – No deary, I wouldn’t dream of trying to impart any fashion advice on you, you are quite clearly set on the trashy look. And I have to say, you are one of a select few women that can pull it off without looking like a single mother of twelve. But thats why I’m here to speak to you about, you have a wonderful bone structure, a flawless complexion...you really are classic beauty. What I don’t understand why you are hell bent on becoming a disfigured cautionary tale...’
Gabrielle: I’m sure that makes sense to you, shouldn’t someone be with you? I didn’t think they let people with severe Alzheimer’s wander around on their own, especially somewhere as dangerous as a wrestling arena...[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Ah you are obviously a classic case of beauty over brains. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in the company of Travis Roberts, do you really think I’d still be here if witty put downs bothered me? Or do you actually think you do it better than my Grandson’s employer? Either way I think I can see why you’d be so misguided as to take on a grown man in a fight, even if your boyfriend is there to protect you.’
Gabrielle: I would have thought you would have approved. It was your generation that fought for women’s rights, I imagine you were alive not long after women first won the right to vote. I’m just showing we are equal to men here in GIW, that we women can rise to the top. Surely it’s the natural progression in sports, that we’ve seen across the rest of the society?
Old Lady Levene – ‘Suffrage is overrated. A woman’s first place is to be a homemaker, to be there for your husband and your children. If you can hold down a job at the same time, congratulations, but first and foremost you should be there to support your husband, to sacrifice your own wants and needs for them, that’s what a real woman does...’
Gabrielle: I’m sorry, but I disagree. Why should a woman devote her life to someone else....a true relationship should be equal...’[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘I wouldn’t expect any other kind of foggy thinking from a child who has grown up during this era of decadence and sin. And given your actions in the past you’d have to think that way to excuse the fact you are responsible for the complete emasculation of your own man...’
Gabrielle: I have done no such thing...
Old Lady Levene – ‘Oh come now Honey, yes you have and you know it. You’ve metaphorically castrated jack in front of millions of people on live TV over the past few months. Making him beg, you never make a man beg, it takes away his pride, his soul. Not to mention flirting and cavorting with all types whilst he got on his knees and begged for your return. Then to take his career, his title shot...I can only imagine you want him to seem like a weak and pathetic man, purely so no-one will ever think of stealing him from you.’
Gabrielle: No...No...you’ve got it all wrong, I would never do anything to hurt Jack...’[/b]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Of course you wouldn’t, that’s why you gladly took his title shot away from him, so you could challenge for the title. I do wonder whether you realised it would be in Japan, and that it was going to be a very violent match...the kind of match that could have made your man a huge star, a worldwide icon...and a match that will probably disfigure and scar you for life...whatever it may be...’
[Before Gabrielle can respond, the door bursts open, and Diamond Jack backs through, beaming and holding a tub of massage oil in one hand a pineapple in the other...]
’Diamond’ Jack: Did I hear another voice...you are akinky girl...who is it this ti....Oh..[/b]
[Jack turns round and see’s Old Lady Levene standing in front of his partner, you can see him almost die of shock. But rather than make comment Old Lady Levene merely smiles, raises her eyebrows and makes her leave from the room, as the scene fades out once more]
Back at Belleview
[Travis sits on a chair, leaning forwards towards the bed of Cara, who is still sat as before, mesmerised by the TV]
Travis – ‘That pretty much updates you on everything since you left. So yeah, if Gabby taking ‘Diamond’ Jacks shot wasn’t enough, she’s doing it at No Holds Barred...Travis Roberts wonders whether she saw last years...and what happened to Declan....’
[He looks up at Cara, hoping to see a glimmer of a reaction, the faintest hint that something still lives inside the empty void that is Cara Prescott’s still body. But to no avail, she sits fixated the TV, clutching the sheet of paper tightly]
TV - ‘THE THE WORLD OF WRESTLING CONTINUES TO BECOME MORE VIOLENT AND DENGEROUS WITH EVERY DAY, THE RECENT ATTACK ON XFWORUFFTVWXX WRESTLING’S WORLD FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL HEAVYWEIGHT UNDIPSUTED ULTRA-MEGA SUPER AWESOME CHAMPION OF THE UNIVERSE, REDBLADE WGHICH LEFT HIM IN A COMA, IS JUST THE LATEST OF A STRING OF HIGH PROFILE OCCURANCES IN RECENT WEEKS, POLICE ARE STILL ON THE HUNT FOR MAIN SUSPECT, FELLOW XFWORUFFTVWXX STAR, PETER DAMASCUS, STILL CONTINUES...
[The door to the room swings open, and a doctor with a large, bushy unkempt beard, and long unstyled brown hair walks into the room and addresses Travis]
Doctor – ‘I’m afraid visiting time is almost over, Travis’
[‘The Headliner’ doesn’t notice the use of his first name, and it takes him a few moments to realise he is being spoken to before he turns and rises to greet the doctor...]
Travis – ‘’The Headliner’ couldn’t just watch over her could he?’
Declan – ‘I’m afraid that’s against hospital policy...dude...’
Travis – ‘Oh...what’s wrong with her...she used to be so...engaged.’
Doctor – ‘We’re not sure, whatever it is though, it didn’t happen overnight, it grew over a period of time, close to a year we assume...someone should have helped her...’
[The Doctor’s face forms as frown, and his eyes express deep remorse...but Travis doesn’t note any of this]
Travis – ‘Yeah...shouldn’t have been so preoccupied hunting their own glory...’
[Travis face also expresses the look of inward guilt that crosses that of the doctor, but nreither man seems to be paying attention to the other]
Doctor – ‘Afterall, there were signs, it’s not like it came out of nowhere...if only somebody had been a little less obsessed with their career...’
Travis – ‘Deep down...they knew, knew not everything was right, but ignored it...just kept focusing on themselves...their own petty problems...’
Doctor – ‘As if what a penguin did was more important than her life...’
Travis – ‘She doesn’t deserve this...’
Doctor – ‘Was it worth it...whatever vain accolade they wanted, was it worth this?’
Travis – ‘They’re going to have to live with this for the rest of their lives...’
[Both men look down at Cara, who hasn’t flinched from the TV, fixated by the ongoing investigative report into violence in professional wrestling. Both men, then turn, wordlessly, not making eye contact with one another and leave the room. The Doctor turns right, Travis. As the Doctor passes two nurses one turns to the other an remarks.]
Nurse – ‘I didn;t know we had a new Doctor...he looks like a Hobo...’
[The camera catches up with the Doctor who turns a corner, and removes the white coat, to reveal tattered and torn clothing. He then speaks a sentence to himself.]
Damascus – ‘I[/b] I should have done more...’[/color]
[The view switches back to Travis Roberts, who emerges into the night air, he looks from side to side and then makes his way down the steps, when he reaches the bottom he turns his head back towards the building, and then utters one sentence to himself]
travis – ‘I[/i] should have done more...’[/color]
[As Travis walks off into the sunset, the view switches once more, to a television screen, with a photo of Peter Damascus taking up the full view. The words: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN, flash underneath the image. The view then pulls back to see Cara in the same position, in the dark with only the glow of the TV illuminating her face. We then get a close up view of Cara’s face, no expression, eyes wide open...but just as the scene fades out for the last time, we see a single tear roll down her left cheek, before darkness engulfs the screen]
