Post by Red Bull Icon on Jul 25, 2009 21:20:55 GMT -5
{Our scene opens inside a small well broken in living room. Earthy toned fabrics adorn the old furniture, the shag carpet beckons back to the late seventies, and the faux wooden paneling on the walls hints this is not a picture perfect American home. We’ve been here before, a lot. Everything is so familiar, so friendly, so forgotten, so wrong. The sound of children laughing without a care fills our ears. As the volume continues to increase it begins to invade our every thought until an overwhelming mournful sobbing is all that can be tolerated. In a flash the still images of a memory best not recalled flood the room, wash over our conscience, and drown whatever pride we had. The images of a little girls’ birthday party with her two best friends, boring summer afternoons spent with good friends, flirtatious after school games while her parents are at work, nervous kids leaving for their first formal, and the last image of two individuals standing in the embrace that still aches in our core all melt together in a swirling cloud of white smoke before being whisked away. It always starts like this.
Our eyes refocus on the room. The earthy tones blowing like desert sand, the shag carpet sways in the breeze like tall grass, and the paneling creeks and pops like a forest warning of the impending storm. It’s so familiar, so normal, so comforting, so torturous. The warm gentle breeze becomes stronger until all is blown away, replaced with the dark abyss, and we feel as if we are trapped in a tornado. We swirl, rotate, we’re tossed, jostled, and dropped face first without a landing. We’ve been through this before, a lot.}
???; “Ran! Hurry the hell up!”
{A loud snort vibrates the surroundings as we slowly we lift our head, and the scene comes back into view. Gazing back at us with a vacant stare is a young BoolZ. The black at white template does nothing to hide his bloodshot eyes. He brushes his long hair from his face before sniffling and pinching his nose. We look down at our fingertips, and are memorized by the small trickle of blood. We glance back up to BoolZ who wipes his hand across the front of his dirty jeans and leans to his left as we flush a toilet. The soft worn denim still tingles on our fingers. We open the door, turn off the light, and follow RBI from the restroom. Standing alone in the hallway we look left, right, and left again before deciding that’s the way to go. We stumble down the passage, and into the living room. One more time we watch as a tall young man sits on the earthy toned fabric facing the perfect woman standing, her brightly painted blue toenails, barefoot on the shag carpet as she leans on the paneled wall. Unseen we watch with blurred vision as the two play and poke lovingly. With whispered breath.}
BoolZ; “Maddy.”
{The same flash of red, the same burning of jealousy, the same consuming aroma of jasmine. We’ve lived this before, a lot. A silent hum is all we can hear. We can’t make out the conversation between the two, but we know what they’re saying. We’ve always known. As well as she tried to walk the fence it had to be. Quietly, we think, we approach encroaching on the moment. A snag of our knee length wallet chain pulls us back, we think, and the clatter of the camera falling from the tri-pod stops their game. Again. We turn, look past the blood stained dirty jeans, and fixate on the laughing mockery of the lenses as it peers into our soul.}
Maddy; “Damnit, Randy my…”
{We’ve heard it so many times. We’ve replayed it so many times. Why won’t it stop? Why can’t I stop it. Like she always does she runs to her camera boyfriend it tow. He doesn’t deserve her. I’ve felt this before, we experienced this so many times.}
BoolZ; “What’s the rush, you’re momma’s comin’ home?”
???; “Dude, we gotta go if you wanna get their early. I’ve waited for the Fight Club to make it out here long enough.”
{We know this guy as a brother. He’s saved my life more than we could have ever repaid. Our stomach turns as he takes the keys from his pocket, and twirls them around his index finger. Our blow must have been cut dirty, or is it guilt, or fear that wretches our gut. Helplessly I can’t help but be forced to partake yet again. On more time we respond.}
BoolZ; “Ash man, you gotta relax. You man crush will still be there. The Dread Pirate Roberts ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Ash; “Just get the hell over here.”
{We take our place, like I’ve done countless times before, on the salted earth fabric. Ashton walks dried grass shag carpet, and stands ready for what may come behind the couch. Maddy after setting up the camera strolls past the burnt forest faux wood siding. In the last moment of true happiness, as the flash sets off the camera Maddy pushes Ash over the side of the couch causing him to drop his keys. Maddy quickly joins the dog pile, and time stops. BoolZ, Ash, and Maddy frozen in the perfect moment. The sides of our vision distorts and warps before pulling out. The still frame is joined by a brick fireplace, and oak mantle. We see the snapshot of a better time, of our fall, hanging over a solid silver urn.}
BoolZ; “Fµcker, I got ya keys Ashy!”
{There’s a hiccup in your stride. It’s the same hitch in BoolZ when he’s running from his past. It doesn’t stop us though as we come back, again, to Maddy’s living room. I dart out the front door, the whole world shakes, our feet are so heavy. This is going to be great!}
Ash; “Hey, Ran you’re not driving my car!”
{To late, we’re in, I turn the key, he barely makes it. Why wasn’t I faster? No matter we’re off. The screeching tires announce to the world we’re gone. There’s no stopping me, we’re fµcked outta my head, driving way to fast, and our best friend is along for the ride, and not a damn thing can stop this. We catch air as the pavement buckles under the pressure. BoolZ tries to grab hold, but the grass is to wet and our feet slip in the mud as the tires lock up. This is our favorite part. In an instant the world is silent, the scenery still, and we’re transfixed on a pair of fully dilated pupils. An eerie peace falls over the moment as you blink. Randy inhales deeply still stuck on the vacant stare. It never ends like it should.}
(In a flash the world is filled with white and fresh air. Our eyes spring open inside of a small hotel room. We survey the surroundings and are shown a bolted down television, large window with cheep curtains drawn shut, a queen sized bed with a brunette passed out on her stomach. We blink and the brunette is a blonde, we blink and she’s a red head, again and the hair is longer, one more time and she’s black, again and she’s Asian, finally they all looked like Maddy, but this one. A leggy young lady stares at us with her legs crossed. We stare back momentarily from the chair before looking to our right. He picks up a can of Red Bull, the condensation on the side screaming it had not been there long, and he takes a swig. Finally as if the world is awake, the scene returns to normal. The blonde half dressed in bed still looking at BoolZ who sits in a chair with his Red Bull, and we are left to watch.)
Blonde; “You ok?”
BoolZ; “I got no complaints. Why?”
Blonde; “Cause you got really sad eyes.”
(BoolZ finishes the Red Bull, lights a cigarette, and gets up out of his chair to walk towards the mini-fridge.)
BoolZ; “I should probably be getting you home, Fiona.”
(BoolZ takes a Red Bull from the mini-fridge, and exits the hotel room. We cut the to the lobby of the hotel to see BoolZ and Fiona exit the elevator. BoolZ still with a lit cigarette and an open Red Bull walks first with Fiona behind him when he’s stopped by one of the bell hops.)
Bell Hop; “Sir, excuse me sir, but we do not permit smoking in the lobby.”
BoolZ; “Bummer.”
(BoolZ takes another drag never breaking his stride.)
Bell Hop; “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to put that out.”
(Finishing off his Red Bull BoolZ tosses the empty can into a nearby trash can, takes an empty can from his back pocket, and disposes of that one too.)
BoolZ; “Too Bad.”
(The bell hop clearly growing frustrated makes a last ditch effort to assert his authority by running up and standing in his way.)
Bell Hop; “Maybe you didn’t understand. You can’t smoke in here.”
???; “Maybe I can help with this.”
(BoolZ and the bell hop both turn to see Jason Reeves and a television crew approaching from the front desk. He shakes the bell hops hand before introducing himself.)
Jason Reeves; “Good morning, I’m Jason Reeves, and if it’s not too much trouble I need a word with the Red Bull Icon.”
(The bell hop checks his hand before quickly placing it in his pocket, and walking off without a word.)
Jason Reeves; “BoolZ, I have to say it’s a pleasure to finally run into you. I don’t mind telling you that after that reception and your actions at last week’s Sentinel you’re one of the hottest things in the company. Come on what do you say? How about we get that first interview out of the way?”
BoolZ; “Let me guess, you want to know how I feel about Travis Roberts not being there?”
Reeves; “Well among other things, yeah.”
BoolZ; “Well to tell you the truth I kinda forgot about him being there. You know, just like the rest of the wrestling world forgot about him while in his little coma. I mean I forgot, so why bother looking for him. You know kinda like the rest of the wrestling world never bothered to look for him until that little teddy bear raped Umpa-lumpa off spring of a manager of his decided that much like Cara he’s had enough of the ‘street’, and was a little worried about being worn out. Besides it’s not like I needed him. I beat Aragato just fine by myself. Hell I left him gazing at the stars, and I did it alone. I beat the Goliath and the Vampire and their little Slut Machine by myself.”
(Sensing he might not get another word in if he doesn’t speak up.)
Reeves; “Well ok, but how about Cara’s offer to ‘The Headliner’? What do you think is going on?”
BoolZ; “What’s goin’ on? Evil is Going On! My Little Friend let me tell you something. ‘The Blessed One’ is standing On the Verge. On one hand you’ve got Global Domination pulling on him. Pulling on him like a Gravity Well, sucking him in like a Dinosaur Vacume trying to pull him Into the Void. Pulling like a Tractor. Trying to Bring him Down in the Jungle. They’re hoping the ‘TWiSTeD High Commander’ will be enough to finally push them over the edge. On the other you’ve got Travis Roberts knowing damn well he’ll never be content in following someone else’s orders. I mean he’ll never sit by and watch someone else make everything happen. He knows damn well only he can set his mind free, but he also knows he’s lost it. He ain’t the same man as he was before the coma. Before that little wife of his ran off with someone else. He knows he doesn’t have it anymore. It, that spark that hunger that drive to push himself. He knows he can’t reclaim his glory without help. The only question remaining is where’s he gonna look for that help?”
Reeves; “Well yeah…”
(Putting up his hand to stop Reeves from speaking.)
BoolZ; “Hold on. Listen I had a long day filming some parody with Brandon Brown yesterday. I mean a long day. I did get to see Sean Jensen though, so that was a plus, but then I was up all night.”
(Pausing to look at Fiona.)
BoolZ; “So I’m not exactly in the mood to answer any more questions.”
(Characteristically.)
Reeves; “Oh, ok, I understand. But now what about…”
(BoolZ takes a final drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the concrete, and snuffing it out with his heel. He shakes his head, takes Fiona by the hand, and the two leave as Reeves stands rejected again. Just before the door RBI is stopped by a young boy looking for an autograph. The cameras catch it all.)
Fan; “Thank you BoolZ! You know I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”
BoolZ; “I think you can do a little better, kid.”
(BoolZ signs the autograph book, hands it back to the kid, and he and Fiona leave the hotel as the cameras fade out.)
Our eyes refocus on the room. The earthy tones blowing like desert sand, the shag carpet sways in the breeze like tall grass, and the paneling creeks and pops like a forest warning of the impending storm. It’s so familiar, so normal, so comforting, so torturous. The warm gentle breeze becomes stronger until all is blown away, replaced with the dark abyss, and we feel as if we are trapped in a tornado. We swirl, rotate, we’re tossed, jostled, and dropped face first without a landing. We’ve been through this before, a lot.}
???; “Ran! Hurry the hell up!”
{A loud snort vibrates the surroundings as we slowly we lift our head, and the scene comes back into view. Gazing back at us with a vacant stare is a young BoolZ. The black at white template does nothing to hide his bloodshot eyes. He brushes his long hair from his face before sniffling and pinching his nose. We look down at our fingertips, and are memorized by the small trickle of blood. We glance back up to BoolZ who wipes his hand across the front of his dirty jeans and leans to his left as we flush a toilet. The soft worn denim still tingles on our fingers. We open the door, turn off the light, and follow RBI from the restroom. Standing alone in the hallway we look left, right, and left again before deciding that’s the way to go. We stumble down the passage, and into the living room. One more time we watch as a tall young man sits on the earthy toned fabric facing the perfect woman standing, her brightly painted blue toenails, barefoot on the shag carpet as she leans on the paneled wall. Unseen we watch with blurred vision as the two play and poke lovingly. With whispered breath.}
BoolZ; “Maddy.”
{The same flash of red, the same burning of jealousy, the same consuming aroma of jasmine. We’ve lived this before, a lot. A silent hum is all we can hear. We can’t make out the conversation between the two, but we know what they’re saying. We’ve always known. As well as she tried to walk the fence it had to be. Quietly, we think, we approach encroaching on the moment. A snag of our knee length wallet chain pulls us back, we think, and the clatter of the camera falling from the tri-pod stops their game. Again. We turn, look past the blood stained dirty jeans, and fixate on the laughing mockery of the lenses as it peers into our soul.}
Maddy; “Damnit, Randy my…”
{We’ve heard it so many times. We’ve replayed it so many times. Why won’t it stop? Why can’t I stop it. Like she always does she runs to her camera boyfriend it tow. He doesn’t deserve her. I’ve felt this before, we experienced this so many times.}
BoolZ; “What’s the rush, you’re momma’s comin’ home?”
???; “Dude, we gotta go if you wanna get their early. I’ve waited for the Fight Club to make it out here long enough.”
{We know this guy as a brother. He’s saved my life more than we could have ever repaid. Our stomach turns as he takes the keys from his pocket, and twirls them around his index finger. Our blow must have been cut dirty, or is it guilt, or fear that wretches our gut. Helplessly I can’t help but be forced to partake yet again. On more time we respond.}
BoolZ; “Ash man, you gotta relax. You man crush will still be there. The Dread Pirate Roberts ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Ash; “Just get the hell over here.”
{We take our place, like I’ve done countless times before, on the salted earth fabric. Ashton walks dried grass shag carpet, and stands ready for what may come behind the couch. Maddy after setting up the camera strolls past the burnt forest faux wood siding. In the last moment of true happiness, as the flash sets off the camera Maddy pushes Ash over the side of the couch causing him to drop his keys. Maddy quickly joins the dog pile, and time stops. BoolZ, Ash, and Maddy frozen in the perfect moment. The sides of our vision distorts and warps before pulling out. The still frame is joined by a brick fireplace, and oak mantle. We see the snapshot of a better time, of our fall, hanging over a solid silver urn.}
BoolZ; “Fµcker, I got ya keys Ashy!”
{There’s a hiccup in your stride. It’s the same hitch in BoolZ when he’s running from his past. It doesn’t stop us though as we come back, again, to Maddy’s living room. I dart out the front door, the whole world shakes, our feet are so heavy. This is going to be great!}
Ash; “Hey, Ran you’re not driving my car!”
{To late, we’re in, I turn the key, he barely makes it. Why wasn’t I faster? No matter we’re off. The screeching tires announce to the world we’re gone. There’s no stopping me, we’re fµcked outta my head, driving way to fast, and our best friend is along for the ride, and not a damn thing can stop this. We catch air as the pavement buckles under the pressure. BoolZ tries to grab hold, but the grass is to wet and our feet slip in the mud as the tires lock up. This is our favorite part. In an instant the world is silent, the scenery still, and we’re transfixed on a pair of fully dilated pupils. An eerie peace falls over the moment as you blink. Randy inhales deeply still stuck on the vacant stare. It never ends like it should.}
(In a flash the world is filled with white and fresh air. Our eyes spring open inside of a small hotel room. We survey the surroundings and are shown a bolted down television, large window with cheep curtains drawn shut, a queen sized bed with a brunette passed out on her stomach. We blink and the brunette is a blonde, we blink and she’s a red head, again and the hair is longer, one more time and she’s black, again and she’s Asian, finally they all looked like Maddy, but this one. A leggy young lady stares at us with her legs crossed. We stare back momentarily from the chair before looking to our right. He picks up a can of Red Bull, the condensation on the side screaming it had not been there long, and he takes a swig. Finally as if the world is awake, the scene returns to normal. The blonde half dressed in bed still looking at BoolZ who sits in a chair with his Red Bull, and we are left to watch.)
Blonde; “You ok?”
BoolZ; “I got no complaints. Why?”
Blonde; “Cause you got really sad eyes.”
(BoolZ finishes the Red Bull, lights a cigarette, and gets up out of his chair to walk towards the mini-fridge.)
BoolZ; “I should probably be getting you home, Fiona.”
(BoolZ takes a Red Bull from the mini-fridge, and exits the hotel room. We cut the to the lobby of the hotel to see BoolZ and Fiona exit the elevator. BoolZ still with a lit cigarette and an open Red Bull walks first with Fiona behind him when he’s stopped by one of the bell hops.)
Bell Hop; “Sir, excuse me sir, but we do not permit smoking in the lobby.”
BoolZ; “Bummer.”
(BoolZ takes another drag never breaking his stride.)
Bell Hop; “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to put that out.”
(Finishing off his Red Bull BoolZ tosses the empty can into a nearby trash can, takes an empty can from his back pocket, and disposes of that one too.)
BoolZ; “Too Bad.”
(The bell hop clearly growing frustrated makes a last ditch effort to assert his authority by running up and standing in his way.)
Bell Hop; “Maybe you didn’t understand. You can’t smoke in here.”
???; “Maybe I can help with this.”
(BoolZ and the bell hop both turn to see Jason Reeves and a television crew approaching from the front desk. He shakes the bell hops hand before introducing himself.)
Jason Reeves; “Good morning, I’m Jason Reeves, and if it’s not too much trouble I need a word with the Red Bull Icon.”
(The bell hop checks his hand before quickly placing it in his pocket, and walking off without a word.)
Jason Reeves; “BoolZ, I have to say it’s a pleasure to finally run into you. I don’t mind telling you that after that reception and your actions at last week’s Sentinel you’re one of the hottest things in the company. Come on what do you say? How about we get that first interview out of the way?”
BoolZ; “Let me guess, you want to know how I feel about Travis Roberts not being there?”
Reeves; “Well among other things, yeah.”
BoolZ; “Well to tell you the truth I kinda forgot about him being there. You know, just like the rest of the wrestling world forgot about him while in his little coma. I mean I forgot, so why bother looking for him. You know kinda like the rest of the wrestling world never bothered to look for him until that little teddy bear raped Umpa-lumpa off spring of a manager of his decided that much like Cara he’s had enough of the ‘street’, and was a little worried about being worn out. Besides it’s not like I needed him. I beat Aragato just fine by myself. Hell I left him gazing at the stars, and I did it alone. I beat the Goliath and the Vampire and their little Slut Machine by myself.”
(Sensing he might not get another word in if he doesn’t speak up.)
Reeves; “Well ok, but how about Cara’s offer to ‘The Headliner’? What do you think is going on?”
BoolZ; “What’s goin’ on? Evil is Going On! My Little Friend let me tell you something. ‘The Blessed One’ is standing On the Verge. On one hand you’ve got Global Domination pulling on him. Pulling on him like a Gravity Well, sucking him in like a Dinosaur Vacume trying to pull him Into the Void. Pulling like a Tractor. Trying to Bring him Down in the Jungle. They’re hoping the ‘TWiSTeD High Commander’ will be enough to finally push them over the edge. On the other you’ve got Travis Roberts knowing damn well he’ll never be content in following someone else’s orders. I mean he’ll never sit by and watch someone else make everything happen. He knows damn well only he can set his mind free, but he also knows he’s lost it. He ain’t the same man as he was before the coma. Before that little wife of his ran off with someone else. He knows he doesn’t have it anymore. It, that spark that hunger that drive to push himself. He knows he can’t reclaim his glory without help. The only question remaining is where’s he gonna look for that help?”
Reeves; “Well yeah…”
(Putting up his hand to stop Reeves from speaking.)
BoolZ; “Hold on. Listen I had a long day filming some parody with Brandon Brown yesterday. I mean a long day. I did get to see Sean Jensen though, so that was a plus, but then I was up all night.”
(Pausing to look at Fiona.)
BoolZ; “So I’m not exactly in the mood to answer any more questions.”
(Characteristically.)
Reeves; “Oh, ok, I understand. But now what about…”
(BoolZ takes a final drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the concrete, and snuffing it out with his heel. He shakes his head, takes Fiona by the hand, and the two leave as Reeves stands rejected again. Just before the door RBI is stopped by a young boy looking for an autograph. The cameras catch it all.)
Fan; “Thank you BoolZ! You know I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”
BoolZ; “I think you can do a little better, kid.”
(BoolZ signs the autograph book, hands it back to the kid, and he and Fiona leave the hotel as the cameras fade out.)
