Post by Red Bull Icon on Sept 21, 2012 21:57:33 GMT -5
Remedy Monroe Remi Monroe burst onto the scene in early 2012 promising justice and a change as one half of Remitude with Vaughn Brennen. He delivered on the change and fans are now eagerly waiting for the day he is brought to justice. In what would become a perfect storm of ego, creativity, and ruthless cunning ‘The Creole Curse’ showcased exactly how a heel in today’s environment gets over. From the brutal assault to ‘free’ himself of his partner, to the aggressive campaigning for the fans vote at In Your Hands, the shenanigans as Captian 80’s, and the near effortless attention whoring that has brought every member of the Consortium and the former Worlds Champion against him. From an impressive win that ended the record setting Cross-Hemisphere title reign of Moss Edwards that solidified the Swampland Superman as a force. To the all important title retention against Phrixus Deimos that signalled it would not be easy to dethrone the new champion. One thing is clear. From a man who insists we will never see him coming, he has certainly garnered enough attention that all eyes are on the young Cajun. |  |
~*~*~
(He’s been watching her for weeks now. Unsure of what to make of her current position he’s sought insight. Asked around. Met with people he’d rather not. He knows the subject of his inquiry. He knows she knows him, and knows this game better than he ever will. Still it’s bugged him for over a month. Eaten at him. He despises this stupid little cunt with her mind games, angles, plot devices, the sheer swath of broken men in her wake, but more than anything he hates this whore because she has his sympathy.
The Red Bull Icon doesn’t do sympathy. He doesn’t ask it. He never expects it. He doesn’t understand it. But still here he is. The blacktop singes the bottoms of his bare feet. The breeze whipping up to full blown wind seemingly for the sole purpose of retarded his Zippo forcing his cancer stick to chase and play catch up to the dancing flame. The shadows encroach blocking out the sun as the clouds march across the sky. He’s got to know. Popping open his Red Bull, BoolZ walks towards her.
Mary-Joanna Roberts is lost. She’s been lost. Some would argue she’s always been a loss. Now more than ever though it’s clear. Garbed in her prescribed ‘Ollie uniform of a string bikini and high heels she slaves away waxing Remi Monroe’s Rolls Royce limousine. It’s a sight to behold, this MJolly. Quietly toiling along, doing as she’s told, simply accepting what to some would seem her fate. She looks up from her cloth towards the to her one time familiar sound of an aluminum can cracking open.)
BoolZ; “MJ, you’re late.”
MJ; “Sorry.”
(That’s not the Mary-Ho’anna we’ve come to know and wish she’d just die in a fire.)
BoolZ; “Hey, we have tradition. Remember. Pay-Per-View week?”
MJ; “Oh, yeah?”
BoolZ; “MJ, you doin’ ok?”
(The fuck? The TWiSTeD Heiress, the Red Bull Princess, the Seductress of Jwar doesn’t do sympathy.)
MJ; “Oh, Randall. Are you showing concern for another? Well Mary-Jo can only assume that is because you have realized how shallow the pool of people is, that you’ve known for more than a feces filled romp, that are still alive?”
(That’s why BoolZ doesn’t do good deeds.)
BoolZ; “OK, well then fuck. You missed a spot bitch.”
(Loneliness is a poor companion. A deaf ear. A cold shoulder to cry into.)
MJ; “Wait. Tradition?”
(It dawns on RBI that he should just keep walking, but deep down her previous vile observation was almost reassuring. BoolZ turns back around.)
MJ; “Don’t tell MJ that you’re worried. You’re going in against a rookie who wishes he could illicit the same vitriol as Remedy. A man who has all but given up standing up to Remi. A man who has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt just how much he needs Jet Somers, of all people, in order to remain relevant. And two men whom will have already wrestled one match. And lost. By the RBP’s reasoning that puts only one man as a likely victor and 5 others as weak numbers to pad some sort of significance to your eventual triumph. Plus it’s not like any of them are responsible for your wife’s death. They’re just filler.”
(And that’s the kind of bad decision making prowess BoolZ slowly became known for. He could have just continued on his way.)
BoolZ; “MJ, your camel toe is showing.”
(She doesn’t even care. The first person to honestly engage her in months, the person she has felt unashamed around in over a year, and he’s walking away. He didn’t set in motion her eventual grape. He didn’t grape her. He didn’t get inside her head, use her, trap her, and abuse her. He was just BoolZ, Randall, he just was and now he’s leaving. Again.)
MJ; “You know I found you!”
BoolZ; “And now I know if I need to find you I can just have Cross send for ya.”
MJ; “What was it like?”
(Her voice had quickly regained its sheepish tone. Cracking as she attempts to choke back her desperation. He never learns.)
BoolZ; “What?”
MJ; “Last year. I found you. I brought Conni to Mexico. I saw you sleeping in the hammock. I was supposed to bring you back. You were supposed to be in Remi’s spot in Dexter’s saviors. What was it like?”
BoolZ; “Comfortable. It was a hammock.”
MJ; “No. Leaving. Being happy. You looked so content. So at peace. What was that like? What was it like to just walk away? Were you happy?”
BoolZ; “Happy? Yeah I was happy. Thought I was anyway.”
MJ; “So you did start to miss this?”
(He had snuffed out his cigarette, lit a new one, and stepped more into conversation distance.)
BoolZ; “Yeah I missed it. I mean I didn’t. Well I did. First couple months I’d lie awake in our bed and it’d just eat at me. I’d wonder how that match with Travis would have gone down, and it’d bug me that now I’d never know. But each day I’d start falling asleep a little easier. Start sleeping a little longer. My whole world changed. It wasn’t about that ring anymore; it was about the ring on my finger. We needed each other, and together we brought each other back from that brink. Grace helped, and for a minute we carved out a nice little slice of life.”
MJ; “Then?”
BoolZ; “Then? Then Conni showed up. And boom. It was like an alarm clock went off in my head. This isn’t what I’m supposed to do. This isn’t what’s meant for me.”
MJ; “But you still stayed away. How did you not come rushing back?”
BoolZ; “Who says I didn’t? I asked Grace to go back, find out who’s looking for me. I started following the game a bit more closely. I tried reassuring Maddy that I wasn’t gonna leave her.”
MJ; “But you did.”
BoolZ; “Yeah. Well, not at first. I really did mean it. I wasn’t going to step back in the ring. She needed me. I needed her. But as hard as I tried to fight it I just fucked it up.”
(Together they’ve started leaning against a stone work flower pot. He’s lit a cigarette for them both now and opened another Red Bull.)
MJ; “How? I thought Remi dragged you back.”
BoolZ; “Yeah! Didn’t you ever wonder why a brash young Cajun was contacting you out of nowhere?”
(MJ takes a drag and fixes her eyes on the limo.)
BoolZ; “I think that was my self-sabotage here. I knew Cross would piss people off. He can’t help that. I also knew eventually he’d call on the former Fors Fortis when he needed a hand. Probably me because of where he was.”
MJ; “Do you blame yourself for Maddy’s death.”
BoolZ; “I blame myself for a lot of people dying. You know she didn’t want me taking that match at Outlast. She begged me not to. Remi had me in a tight spot though. We’d been on the run. She shot her husband dead the day we left. I don’t take the match and Remi tells the cops. I think I knew he’d make that play. To this day I’m not sure I ever thought it’d work, but I convinced myself he had us dead to rights. I’d have to return. And I didn’t want to leave, but I was going to. There wasn’t anything more in the world I wanted that morning after Outlast than to see my name on the next show’s card. Then Remi and that D.A. came by and I thought ‘well fuck shit’s finally working out!’ Then I got her text. Then Chinatsu called. But I think me and you. I think we both blame ourselves for a lot of shit we couldn’t have stopped. Maddy had problems. We all have problems, but I think Maddy really just, I don’t know. I think you…”
(Pity? Pity!)
MJ; “Randall please, as much as it amuses the Mistress of the Marsh do not attempt to paint us in the same light. You’re nothing more, and never will be anything more than a minor blip on the radar of this sport. You were born to die alone a broken battered shell of the former you wishing for just one more run while MJ will one day rule this industry.”
(Pity.)
BoolZ; “Yeah. You’re right about that. Right about me anyway. She was right about me. I was born for this. I was made to do this. This is my sole purpose on the planet, and as much as I fight it, it just fights back that much harder.
I mean Monday night I’m going to be locked in that cage with guys like Kurt Brady who’s going to try to heel it up. Try to make a name for him like he tried to do last week. Major difference being of course no matter how many pins his steals from me inside he can’t win until he’s pinned me. I’m looking forward to stepping up against Phrixus Deimos. We’ve both been at this long enough that I know all about him. Respect the hell out of him. He’s not the biggest, fastest, strongest, best at anything. But god damnit that guy finds a way to win. Which is perfect because I’m one the hardest men he’s ever going to face to make lose. Travis Pierce is going to want to have a strong showing so he can avoid his name being added to list of people I simply outclassed on my way to being a big fucking deal without a belt. Then there’s the unknowns. Hastings or Stein? Hastings as long as we’ve been in the GIW I don’t think he and I ever had our one on one. He’s probably the only guy left from that lot that hasn’t lost to me. Couple weeks back I took all Stein had to give and I gave him back all he could take. Why wouldn’t I want round two? How about Remi or Scott? Scott’s just Stein junior without that over developed inner child or the attention whoring t-shirts. Easy pickings. And Remi? Well putting half of the at one time Fors Fortis in the same ring, in a cage, just isn’t fair to the other four men that are trapped with us.
And that’s your answer.”
MJ; “Mary-Joanna doesn’t recall asking a question, or for the love cannot fathom a subject she would need your limited expertise in.”
BoolZ; “You asked me how I did it. How I walked away. How I left. The answer is I didn’t. Not really. Never truly. It worked out to be a break. Recharge the batteries. Sort some shit before I destroyed me too. I think you should try it.”
(He’s not going to push that button on her.)
BoolZ; “Or bitch just go the fuck away because seeing your old ass prancing around in that get up makes me want to slap nuns in the face with my dick just to get smited and live out the rest of eternity in peaceful hell.”
MJ; “Don’t you… a girl’s got to eat Randy.”
(Lighting himself another smoke.)
BoolZ; “I got you. Get your shit and I’ll drive you anywhere you need go, MJ.”
(What’s there left to say? She pushes from her position to return to her rag and wax. She scoops up the pail and the hose and glass cleaner to start putting the stuff away.)
BoolZ; “REMI! REMI!!”
(The Red Bull Icon calls out. Loud. Strong. All the while starting to look up to an open set of French doors that lead from a balcony. Before long Remedy Monroe, a towel around his waist, a perplexed look on his face emerges.)
BoolZ; “Cross I need a 100K.”
Remi; “Pardon?”
(BoolZ glances back at MJ who is meticulously rinsing out the soap bucket.)
BoolZ; “I need to borrow 200K.”
(The Bayou Bitch follows his friends’ eyes to MJ. Remi shakes his head in bewilderment then nods in agreement. For a second it seems he’s about to ask a question, but then turns to head back into one of the bedrooms of his estate.)
BoolZ; “Cross, there’s no trick. It’s not a finesse thing. Sometimes you just have to go right it. Really pound ass.”
~*~*~
(Moments prior. We see a blonde resting on her elbows, hit looking forward, holding a copy of Pro-Wrestling Monthly. Struggling to read the print.)
Blonde; “…From a man who insists we will never see him coming, he has certainly garnered enough attention that all eyes are on the young Cajun.”
(We cut to a view of Remi Monroe. Beads of sweat forming on his brow.)
Remi; “Das’et? Dare a pic’cha a’lease?”
(The blonde holds up the magazine behind her.)
Remi; “No’tin ‘bout all a dat importance I done put on dis ‘ear title bell? No’tin ‘bout…”
(From outside.)
BoolZ; “REMI! REMI!!”
(We focus on the blonde who doesn’t really move while Remi answers his call. She bites her lip. She looks around the lavish décor. She flips through the pages a bit.)
BoolZ; “… Really pound ass.”
(Then like a light bulb going off in her head he eyes widen. Holly finally gets what this morning was about. She closes her mouth as Remi retakes his position. Her eyes bulge. Her face turns red.)
~*~*~
(We cut to a shot much later. Much further away. Much like any other we’re in a diner. Outside are pine trees and rocky mountain roads. BoolZ sits alone at the counter looking at the wallpaper on his phone and eating the not as good as Rene’s eggs and hash browns.)
The Chef; “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay.”
(He talks to a waitress slash cashier slash bus girl. She’s small. Tiny. Enough plump to add enough curve while still fitting into a size 6. Brunette hair. Green eyes.)
The Chef; “You know Mikey said he lost another horse. That’s five on the year.”
Waitress; “Roy. You know I don’t be believin’ in those monster stories. Just a trick to get girls home instead of out wit’ their mens.”
Roy; “Now Suzy you know it’s more than a story! They say it’s a half bear half man in these parts.”
Suzy; “I’m sure they only say that because ‘they’ forgot to add in the pig. I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for this one to leave, close up, and I can get myself home. Go on. Bet yer new wife misses you.”
(They part ways. Roy leaves. Suzy relocks the door behind him before returning to behind the counter. BoolZ is just now finishing up his meal.)
BoolZ; “Sorry again. I really didn’t know…”
Suzy; “Not a problem at all. These ketchup bottles aint gonna refill themselves. Anything else I can get you?”
BoolZ; “No, I’ve kept you to long already. Just the check.”
(Suzy’s not wearing an apron. Hasn’t all night.)
Suzy; “Oh, it must be in my apron. Just a sec.”
(Suzy vanishes into the kitchen, and after a moment returns wearing an apron. She hands BoolZ the check and he settles up. Stands up as Suzy heads back to the kitchen in her apron, but now it’s clear she’s not wearing pants. She stops at the kitchen door.)
Suzy; “Sure there’s nothing else I can get you?”
BoolZ; “I could probably stay for dessert. Now that you mention you.”
~End
