Post by "The Genius" James Davis on May 28, 2010 21:09:32 GMT -6
James Davis sits in a small studio apartment.
He types on a black laptop, sitting on a single bed with plaid covers, brow furrowed.
"What?!" he shouts at the screen, "How does Robby Marshall have more Facebook friends than I do?!"
James' fingers mash away at the tiny keyboard.
"Yes, I want to delete." he says, "Yes, I'm absolutely sure."
He pushes the keys again.
"Yes, confirm!" he exhales a frustrated sigh, "YES! DELETE!"
James falls back on the small bed. He growls his frustration into a pillow.
"Oh my god, I hate Facebook."
James sits up and types some more on the laptop.
"Let's see if my opponents have anything to say about our upcoming match.."
James's eyes narrow.
"Hmm. Nothing yet." he says, "I wonder why? Usually Robby would have attacked me or Ace verbally with some witty banter or attempt at rhyming. I wonder why it's all quiet on the front line?"
As if by cue, the phone beside the bed rings.
"What the..?" he says, "No one should have this number..."
James picks up the receiver and puts it to his ear. With a crack in his voice, he answers.
"H..hello?"
"Hey there, c**k-boy!" a graveled voice croaks.
James feels a chill run down his back.
"What?"
The voice chuckles.
"I said.." the voice croaks, "Hey there, c**k-boy!"
"Who.. who is this?" James says, "Is this Rude? Listen man, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, I've been hiding out--"
"I'm not Rude.. I'm Kenneth Kayfabe!"
"Who?!"
"Ken Kayfabe.. from Kansas City, Kansas.. you little b**ch."
"I don't know anybody in Kansas City.."
"You wanna get a hotel room with me?"
"A hotel room? I don't even know you! Who is this? How did you get this number?!
"Yeah, you do. Is said, For a good time call, 555-****... so I did. Now, you wanna get a hotel room, James?"
"How the f**k do you know my name?"
"I know a lot about you, genius."
The last word is stressed and it sends James over the edge. His forehead breaks into a full sweat and he stands up, screaming.
"WHO THE F**K IS THIS?! TELL ME WHO YOU ARE YOU SONOFABITCH! TELL ME OR GOD AS MY F**KING WITNESS I'LL FIND OUT AND BREAK YOUR G-D DAMNED NECK!"
The voice on the other end just laughs.
"Calm down, James. Damn."
"Who is this?"
"It's Marshall. Damn, dog. You are thin on patience. I was just joking with you."
"Robby Marshall? How did you know where I was? How did you get this number?"
"What? Calm down, man. I just asked around. One of the crew told me how to get hold of you."
"The crew? NCW crew?!"
"Yeah, man. A lighting guy, I think. He told me where you were staying."
"Wait.. a lighting guy knew where I was? And he just told you? How in the hell? Listen, I'm hiding from Mafia hitmen.. HITMEN! Do you know what that means, you little f**k?! There are people trying to KILL ME!"
"Dude.. If that's your problem.. then you have a bigger one. Someone is in NCW, dude. And they know where you are."
James hangs the phone up.
He rushes through the small room and gathers up his belongings, throwing them into a suitcase.
As he zips it up, the phone rings again.
"Listen, Marshall.. I don't have time for your BS. I'll be ready for our match, you just concentrate on--"
"Shut the f**k up and listen."
The voice is distorted. It has a mechanical ring to it, deep and high pitched tones overlayed.. like from inside a tunnel.
"We've got someone here you want to talk to, James. Someone who's been important to you recently..."
There is the sound of shuffling cloth, some clicks like a telephone cord rapping against metal, then a familiar, yet weak, voice speaks.
"Davis... Davis.. it's.. You're in danger.. Tell.. tell Joanne.. it's.. it's.."
"Vincent? VINCENT?! Are you all right? What's going on?!"
"Now, now.. I said 'shut up'."
James chokes back his anger, gulping loudly and clenching his fist. His knuckles turn white around the phone.
"You have been snooping around too much, Davis. I'm not pleased.. There are things you should not know. You took something from my people in Italy, James. I want it back.
"I'm willing to negotiate with you, Davis. I'm willing to forgive. But, you have to play ball with me, Davis. You have to jump through my hoops to win this game. You want to win, don't you, Davis? You like to win, don't you?!"
James sighs.
"What do you want from me?"
"You took something from me, Davis. I want it back. You get it back for me.. And all will be forgiven. You don't.. and you find yourself like your friend here."
"Don't hurt him, you bastard. Don't do it or I'll--"
There is a sound in the background.. a weak sound, like a whispered voice. It's Vincent's voice, trying to speak.
"James... it's.. it's.. Sca.. Scar..."
Three quick compressed air bursts.
"Now.. James.. You're in no position to tell me to do anything.. or threaten anything.. And you're friend can't give my secrets up just yet. He won't anymore.. that's for sure."
James is terrified.
His hands are shaking.
He knew what those sounds were.
Vincent is dead.
Silenced.
By silenced gunfire.
"Give me what I want, Davis.
Or your family is next."
James is standing next to a brick wall, with a single light above him.
"Okay, NCW.. You get the gist.
"I'm in some serious sh*t.
"I've seen some serious sh*t.
"Now, I'm taking on Robby Marshall and some joker named Ace on Suspense.
"I really should quit and go into witness protection.
"But, I think the police are behind it.
"I've tried to look at this from all angles. Joanne's family is powerful.. they could be good for me. My life. My family's life. But, apparently, they could also be bad for it.
"Do you think, for one second, that I wanted to be thrust in the middle of this? I've got killers and criminals on both sides of me! I'm between a rock and a hard place all right.. I'm really damned if I do and damned if I don't.
"Then.. you have my match.
"It's about the same thing.
"On one side, you have Robby Marshall.. Someone who has beat me in the ring, under my own terms.. in my own environment. I'm not out of my element.. hardcore is what I used to do. I've taken the chairs, ladders, steel cages.. I've bled in them, on them.. I've been beaten by them.. and beaten others with them.. But this kid.. This rapper.. he breaks the rules. Not the rules of the ring.. the rules of life.
"He says what he wants, without care.. It's a freedom I can be jealous of. I would love to run my mouth about whatever I felt like running it about. But, lately, I've had to watch what I say.. I've had to make sure my intelligence didn't come across like some know-it-all and disrespect someone who could have my family killed.. I've had to be careful.. And I hate it."
James is walking now, a light appears every so often. He is in a hallway of sorts, making his way through it.
"And this other guy.. Jack Ace?
"What am I supposed to say about this guy? Am I supposed to say anything really? These two are truly clowns.. So maybe, I'll just let my words be expressed in the ring.
"I can't concentrate on anything but my own safety.. And, I believe someone in NCW knows what's going on.
"So, I think I've got myself a good game plan.
"I'm going to beat the living sh*t out of these two tonight..
"And if there is anything left.. I'm going to interrogate them.
"If anything I do results in Brain Damage...
"So be it."
He types on a black laptop, sitting on a single bed with plaid covers, brow furrowed.
"What?!" he shouts at the screen, "How does Robby Marshall have more Facebook friends than I do?!"
James' fingers mash away at the tiny keyboard.
"Yes, I want to delete." he says, "Yes, I'm absolutely sure."
He pushes the keys again.
"Yes, confirm!" he exhales a frustrated sigh, "YES! DELETE!"
James falls back on the small bed. He growls his frustration into a pillow.
"Oh my god, I hate Facebook."
James sits up and types some more on the laptop.
"Let's see if my opponents have anything to say about our upcoming match.."
James's eyes narrow.
"Hmm. Nothing yet." he says, "I wonder why? Usually Robby would have attacked me or Ace verbally with some witty banter or attempt at rhyming. I wonder why it's all quiet on the front line?"
As if by cue, the phone beside the bed rings.
"What the..?" he says, "No one should have this number..."
James picks up the receiver and puts it to his ear. With a crack in his voice, he answers.
"H..hello?"
"Hey there, c**k-boy!" a graveled voice croaks.
James feels a chill run down his back.
"What?"
The voice chuckles.
"I said.." the voice croaks, "Hey there, c**k-boy!"
"Who.. who is this?" James says, "Is this Rude? Listen man, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, I've been hiding out--"
"I'm not Rude.. I'm Kenneth Kayfabe!"
"Who?!"
"Ken Kayfabe.. from Kansas City, Kansas.. you little b**ch."
"I don't know anybody in Kansas City.."
"You wanna get a hotel room with me?"
"A hotel room? I don't even know you! Who is this? How did you get this number?!
"Yeah, you do. Is said, For a good time call, 555-****... so I did. Now, you wanna get a hotel room, James?"
"How the f**k do you know my name?"
"I know a lot about you, genius."
The last word is stressed and it sends James over the edge. His forehead breaks into a full sweat and he stands up, screaming.
"WHO THE F**K IS THIS?! TELL ME WHO YOU ARE YOU SONOFABITCH! TELL ME OR GOD AS MY F**KING WITNESS I'LL FIND OUT AND BREAK YOUR G-D DAMNED NECK!"
The voice on the other end just laughs.
"Calm down, James. Damn."
"Who is this?"
"It's Marshall. Damn, dog. You are thin on patience. I was just joking with you."
"Robby Marshall? How did you know where I was? How did you get this number?"
"What? Calm down, man. I just asked around. One of the crew told me how to get hold of you."
"The crew? NCW crew?!"
"Yeah, man. A lighting guy, I think. He told me where you were staying."
"Wait.. a lighting guy knew where I was? And he just told you? How in the hell? Listen, I'm hiding from Mafia hitmen.. HITMEN! Do you know what that means, you little f**k?! There are people trying to KILL ME!"
"Dude.. If that's your problem.. then you have a bigger one. Someone is in NCW, dude. And they know where you are."
James hangs the phone up.
He rushes through the small room and gathers up his belongings, throwing them into a suitcase.
As he zips it up, the phone rings again.
"Listen, Marshall.. I don't have time for your BS. I'll be ready for our match, you just concentrate on--"
"Shut the f**k up and listen."
The voice is distorted. It has a mechanical ring to it, deep and high pitched tones overlayed.. like from inside a tunnel.
"We've got someone here you want to talk to, James. Someone who's been important to you recently..."
There is the sound of shuffling cloth, some clicks like a telephone cord rapping against metal, then a familiar, yet weak, voice speaks.
"Davis... Davis.. it's.. You're in danger.. Tell.. tell Joanne.. it's.. it's.."
"Vincent? VINCENT?! Are you all right? What's going on?!"
"Now, now.. I said 'shut up'."
James chokes back his anger, gulping loudly and clenching his fist. His knuckles turn white around the phone.
"You have been snooping around too much, Davis. I'm not pleased.. There are things you should not know. You took something from my people in Italy, James. I want it back.
"I'm willing to negotiate with you, Davis. I'm willing to forgive. But, you have to play ball with me, Davis. You have to jump through my hoops to win this game. You want to win, don't you, Davis? You like to win, don't you?!"
James sighs.
"What do you want from me?"
"You took something from me, Davis. I want it back. You get it back for me.. And all will be forgiven. You don't.. and you find yourself like your friend here."
"Don't hurt him, you bastard. Don't do it or I'll--"
There is a sound in the background.. a weak sound, like a whispered voice. It's Vincent's voice, trying to speak.
"James... it's.. it's.. Sca.. Scar..."
Three quick compressed air bursts.
"Now.. James.. You're in no position to tell me to do anything.. or threaten anything.. And you're friend can't give my secrets up just yet. He won't anymore.. that's for sure."
James is terrified.
His hands are shaking.
He knew what those sounds were.
Vincent is dead.
Silenced.
By silenced gunfire.
"Give me what I want, Davis.
Or your family is next."
-----------------
James is standing next to a brick wall, with a single light above him.
"Okay, NCW.. You get the gist.
"I'm in some serious sh*t.
"I've seen some serious sh*t.
"Now, I'm taking on Robby Marshall and some joker named Ace on Suspense.
"I really should quit and go into witness protection.
"But, I think the police are behind it.
"I've tried to look at this from all angles. Joanne's family is powerful.. they could be good for me. My life. My family's life. But, apparently, they could also be bad for it.
"Do you think, for one second, that I wanted to be thrust in the middle of this? I've got killers and criminals on both sides of me! I'm between a rock and a hard place all right.. I'm really damned if I do and damned if I don't.
"Then.. you have my match.
"It's about the same thing.
"On one side, you have Robby Marshall.. Someone who has beat me in the ring, under my own terms.. in my own environment. I'm not out of my element.. hardcore is what I used to do. I've taken the chairs, ladders, steel cages.. I've bled in them, on them.. I've been beaten by them.. and beaten others with them.. But this kid.. This rapper.. he breaks the rules. Not the rules of the ring.. the rules of life.
"He says what he wants, without care.. It's a freedom I can be jealous of. I would love to run my mouth about whatever I felt like running it about. But, lately, I've had to watch what I say.. I've had to make sure my intelligence didn't come across like some know-it-all and disrespect someone who could have my family killed.. I've had to be careful.. And I hate it."
James is walking now, a light appears every so often. He is in a hallway of sorts, making his way through it.
"And this other guy.. Jack Ace?
"What am I supposed to say about this guy? Am I supposed to say anything really? These two are truly clowns.. So maybe, I'll just let my words be expressed in the ring.
"I can't concentrate on anything but my own safety.. And, I believe someone in NCW knows what's going on.
"So, I think I've got myself a good game plan.
"I'm going to beat the living sh*t out of these two tonight..
"And if there is anything left.. I'm going to interrogate them.
"If anything I do results in Brain Damage...
"So be it."