Post by Malcolm Reed on Apr 27, 2010 23:36:13 GMT -6
The morning is partly cloudy as the early morning sun struggles to find its way through the cities skyline. The sunlight barely finds its way through the cracked window of the rusty car. Nathan’s eye lids are practically sewn shut, until he hears her voice waking him up.
Grace: Hey, wake up man.
Rubbing his eyes he sits up and leans forward close to the flip down mirror. He examines the wound, closed up by Graces super glue. It should make a terrific scar and a terrible infection.
Grace: I thought you were hardcore man.
Doe: As hardcore as they come.
Grace: Well you aren’t acting hardcore fella. That’s the third time you fell asleep. I thought I told you I need company or I may pass out and drive off a bridge or into a 7/11.
Doe: Sorry, I just haven’t slept in days.
Grace: You’re gonna be a lot more sorry when I start seeing Z’s and red and green sweaters while the car careens off a cliff.
Doe: Yeah…We don’t want that.
Grace: And what’s with this sarcasm huh?
Doe: What are you talking about?
Grace: Man if I knew you were going to be this cranky I may have left you at the club.
Doe: Why did you bring me?
Grace: I don’t know yet…And if you don’t stay awake and talk to me here we probably won’t find out either. What do I need to do here? Are you hungry? There’s a slim Jim in the glove box if you want it.
Doe: Thanks but I don’t need anything.
He stares out of the window. Watching as they pass the bums sleeping in Central Park
Grace: Didn’t you have a story to tell me huh? We have been driving for an hour and you still haven’t spilled the freaking beans man.
Doe: I have been avoiding the issue.
Grace: Clearly…Come on man. What are you running from? And don’t give me that it’s a long story crap. Because we still have another hour at least. That’s if we don’t get caught in the morning traffic. Speak up man.
Nathan looks away from the outside world, turning to Grace. His mind races as sees her eyes almost leap from her face and into his heart. Maybe it’s the mascara, maybe it’s the way she wears her hair, it could be that short plaid skirt and torn fishnets. But then again there has to be something else.
He wouldn’t be ready to bare his soul to any chick he met in a punk club. He lets out a deep sigh. She halts at a red light and looks across to him, lifting the tangled hair from covering his face.
Doe: Ok, but we are in it for the long hall here. This may get heavy when it does I don’t want you thinking about dropping this loony off at the next bus stop.
Grace: We all have a story man. Don’t be embarrassed. I am sure I am just and messed up as you pal.
Nathan musters a smile.
Grace: Hey there, that’s a first.
Doe: Oh man, where to start…
Grace how about the beginning?
Doe: Ok…
The musty apartment complex smells like a disgusting mixture of cigarettes, beer, and the meth lab form the next apartment over. The child sits filthy in unwashed clothing playing with is Jake the Snake and Ultimate warrior action figures. The child is closed off in his room, in his own little world, far away from the violence happening in the next room over. Until the bedroom door opens and frightens the boy.
His mother slams the door open. Her hair looks as if its been pulled out, her nose is bleeding. There is a broken set of eye glasses within her grasp as she walks over and grabs the child’s hand.
Mother: Come on we are leaving.
He drops his wrestlers as he is lifted off his feet and out of his make believe world and back into the harsh reality.
Child: But mom…
Mother: Shut up you brat. I said we are leaving.
She pulls him down a dark hallway, stopping at the closet to grab her jacket to place over her dirty night gown. From the hallway the child’s mother pulls him into the living room. The lamp is knocked over on the floor leaving the room with only a tiny trace of light shining from behind the old sofa.
A toilet flushes and moments later the boys father emerges from the dark hall way. The knocked over lamp giving him a back light effect ala Hitchcock. He speaks with a shrewd voice.
Father: Where do you think you are gong?
Mother: We are leaving.
Father: No you’re not.
Mother: Fu** You! I don’t answer to you.
Father: Who do you think you are talking to b**ch
His mother walks past his father, pulling the child toward the door. The man lunges at the door as the woman attempts to open it. The door not only slams shut put protrudes outward broken.
Father: I said you are not going anywhere you druggie b**ch!
His hand comes down across the boys head, effortlessly tossing him across the room. This is just the beginning. He backhands the woman; she falls back into the wall crying out a hound like yelp. More blood pours from her nose.
Father: Go sit down.
She covers herself, cowering from her husband. She slaps and swats at him and he grabs her by the shoulders and slams her into the sofa.
Father: I said sit!
The boy watches helplessly as his mother is assaulted once more. Then the man turns his attention to the boy, who is standing patiently hands together thumbs moving in unison almost knowing his turn is next.
Mother: Yeah do it…Go ahead…Prove you’re a man.
Father: Shut your mouth or you’re going to need an ambulance.
He steps up to the boy, sipping from bottle of cheap whiskey. He finishes it with an impressive chug and tosses it aside. It land with a thud on top the collection of bottles in the opposite part of the room.
Mother: You’re a real man. Woman beater, child abuser oh yeah. You are a real man.
He steps closer to the child. The boys eyes close. This is a moment of prayer. It is unanswered.
Father: Come here boy.
He steps forward. His father pulls him to the table and sits him down.
Father: Well boy. How old are you again?
Boy: Seven…
Father: Well boy I think that’s old enough for you to hear the truth. See your mother over there she is a whore.
Mother: (form across the room) Shut up!
Father: Not just a whore but a crack whore. The worst kind, she turns trick for dope boy. And when I hear about the crab she does I get a little upset. I put the food on the table, I provide the food for her fat ass, so every once in a while the b**ch needs a little reminder. You hear her running her mouth?
He silently stares at his father.
Father: Answer me boy, do you hear your crack whore mother flapping her gums?
He slams his clenched fist on onto the table.
Boy: Ye…Yeah…
Father: She still hasn’t learned her lesson has she?
The child knows what is coming, regard of whether or no he plays ball with the man. He remains silent.
Father: Guess you need some learning then to huh boy?
He belches the alcohol soaked breath resonates in the air.
A flick of the mans wrist sends the child off of the chair. He hits the floor and covers himself the best he can. As the boys father removes his belt and swats at him. His mother rushes over at the man and the two of them tussle. The child runs to his room. The door is slammed shut and then locked tightly…
Grace: Oh man…
Nathan looks away from her, feeling somewhat ashamed.
Doe: It didn’t end there.
It’s about an hour after the beating. The child has to go to the bathroom. He has held it all night. He used to just go in his pants to avoid his parents, until they started beating over that issue as well.
The door creaks despite his best effort to remain silent. Seems like the floor shudders with every step. As he walks past the living room to the bathroom he sees that both of his parents are still awake. The lamp is still knocked over onto the floor. His father deep into another bottle of whiskey sits near asleep on the couch and his mother at the kitchen table several lines of cocaine ready to be snorted.
The radio is on as usual, they can’t afford cable.
“And be a simple kind of man”
His fat her calls him over, the boy ignores him.
“And be something you'll love and understand”
The sounds of his mother snorting the drugs with a rolled up dollar bill send chills up his spine.
“Baby be a simple kind of man”
The drunken father struggles to get to his feet.
Father: Come here boy…
“Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?
Then you can”
His mother snorts again.
“Don't get your lust from the rich man's gold”
His father trips over his feet falling to a knee, as he reaches out for the boy.
“All that you need now is in your soul”
The boy runs to his mother for protection, she pushes him away as she finalizes her high.
“And you can do this, oh baby if you try”
His father gets hold of him again. And unleashes drunken furry.
“All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied”
Grace: I am sorry to hear that…That’s awful.
Doe: That was just another day.
Grace: Just another day?
Doe: Just another day, in another week, in another month, in another year.
Grace: Is that why you’re running?
Doe: That’s just the beginning. Like I said, it’s a long story.
Grace: You don’t…
Doe: It’s ok…That sort of continued every day of my life for about seven years.
Grace: Seven years?
Doe: Yeah…Until one night the man got really violent. See as I got older the beatings tended to get a little worse, and then a lot worse. My mother didn’t care. As long as she had powder up her nose or syrup in her veins she was happy.
Grace pulls around a bend and enters a parking garage.
Doe: One night he got pretty drunk and bashed me up pretty good. I was in my room you know. Lights out listening to Black Flag or something. He came in all drunked up and and just starts beating at me. Smashed my nose up.
Nathan looks down at his lap. Grace pulls the car into park.
Doe: He went back out to the living room and blasted the radio. When my eye sight came back I noticed all my blood on the bed. It was soaked. I don’t know what triggered it. Maybe it was Henry Rollins or maybe it was the fact that after fourteen years of abuse I had had it. But I went out there to the living room. He had sat down on the sofa.
Just like he always did. I grabbed an empty whisky bottle, Lord knows there were plenty to choose from and I smacked him. Right across the face, and my oh my did his nose explode.
Nathan chuckles at the memory, a tear falls down his cheek. Grace watches him with a consuming guilty interest. Neither of them realizes but she is running her fingers through his hair.
Doe: And I saw red I guess. I swung again and again and again and I don’t remember stopping. I remember my mother screaming…
“You little sh*t…How dare you!...I am calling the police”
Doe: That crazy b**ch really did call them to. She must have been high, because when the cops came she went to jail for possession and he went to the hospital in handcuffs. She got out on bail a few days later turns out she really was a whore. Her “Pimp” or whatever got her out.
Another tear appears rolling down his face. The two of them are closer now.
Doe: My father ended up doing heavy jail time. Well in typical fashion he made some enemies. Wound up being killed by a gang or something. I lied to the cops, told them I was going to stay at my grandmothers house.
Grace: Where did you go?
Doe: I never stopped moving really. I am still running.
Grace: You can stop running now.
Doe: The story isn’t over yet.
Grace: Call this the first interlude then.
She sits atop him and they embrace with a deep passionate kiss…
It was strange. I was somewhere between boy and a man. I never really stopped running. I would sleep on park benches and parking lots, sidewalks, under bridges, the woods. Pretty much if you name any unsanitary mud hole off of the top of your head I slept there.
It wasn’t easy being on my own, Christ I was just a kid. Not to say that I was innocent. My parents took whatever innocence I had long before I was on the run. I came of age before the cops could do anything about me skipping town.
I was beginning to get hungry, figuratively and literally. I needed to find some sort of income if I wanted to eat. Nothing really stuck with me. I am not a cook, I am terrible with money and all around a little unstable.
What I found was a blessing. Eventually it would be just another demon. I found a flyer that sent me back to the only part of my childhood I relished. An add for a local indy wrestling show. It hit me then that that was what I was meant to do. I was born and bred to be a circus act.
Just look at me. The tattoos, the attitude, I have been traveling all alone since I was fourteen years old. But this circus is violent. It’s not oohs and awes. It’s not just the greatest show on earth, it’s the most violent and that was a great way to unleash some of the pent up aggression.
Is many ways my journey began as a child but this moment of clarity is what I consider the beginning. I went to that show and saw some of the best wrestling I have ever seen and when the came to a close I went through as many people as I could trying to find a trainer. They all said the same thing.
I wasn’t good enough…That’s not how the business works…But then Coach Emerson found me. He took one look at me and said “So you want to be a wrestler”? I nodded at the good Coach. He smiled at me and then kicked me in the gut.
I was caught by surprise but even if I saw that foot coming from a mile away it would have hit me the same. What happened next much like half of my life is a blur. Next thing I knew I was in the Gym with Coach Emerson six days a week.
If those fellas up north fancied being in the Dungeon this was more like Rocky. Meat packing freezers and running down the freezing coastlines in jogging sweats. Then having the old wizened veteran beat the living crap out of me inside and outside of the wrestling ring.
Leg locks, wrist holds, neck locks, armbars, crossfaces, chicken wings, suplexes, back breakers, atomic drops, drop kicks, body slams, pile drivers, power bombs, all of the essentials followed by the extremes in every facet of the game. I studied him as if he were master splinter and I a mutant turtle he found in ooze just reaching those awkward teenage years.
He beat the living crap out of me for almost two years. When he was done knocking me around I had to build the ring and take it apart. Occasionally he threw me into a match to amuse him. It was clear I wasn’t yet ready when I basically jobbed out like a fool. It was all part of a much larger learning experience.
Then that gratifying day came along when Coach Emerson granted me with the passing marks. Giving me my wrestling diploma sealed with blood sweat and tears. But it didn’t come alone. I was told that there was more learning to do, I was no longer the student. I must know become the teacher.
He introduced me to his next project. A man named Tommy. He was kind of a family man type. A guy who knew he had mouths to feed but felt like there was something more out there. A blue chipper chasing the dream, knowing the odds were stacked against him. But I was living proof that you could achieve the dream and become the man you saw in your wildest dreams. That’s why Emerson chose me to help with Tommy. Although we were worlds apart we were one in the same.
The friendship was almost instantaneous. Tommy and I got on great and having just completed Emerson’s course myself he knew I could be trusted. After practice we would all go have a beer at the local pub you know it was right next to Emerson’s.
Finally after twenty years of feeling alone I had not only a friend in Tommy, no we were brothers. Not by blood but by bond. We both bleed with each other and went through severe pain with each other but knew it was leading to something big.
Then the day came when he and I signed with the nCw. Things were finally paying off for us. After three years of training, starving and striving for more the tag team duo of New Disease made it to the big time.
But it came with a price. Even early on I felt my sanity slipping. I was haunted by my past. I began seeing things…Impossible things. The corpse of my dead father not only out and about like a Romero flick but soon after he came to me like full blown Edgar Allen Poe.
With my head no longer in the game we began to slip. Despite a few very impressive weeks New Disease was slipping and it was my fault. One lose after another, because Tommy was more concerned about me being healthy than winning the match. He couldn’t prepare because he was taking care of me.
His family now growing tired of the business and his never being around. His marriage took a huge strain and it was my fault. I knew I had only one choice. I had to run. So I packed my bags and left the hotel. I never told a soul. Neither Tommy nor any other member of the nCw would ever see me again.
Of course I meant this to be noble. I am a basket case for Christ sakes. Tommy was supposed to keep going. Live his dream without me dragging him down. I guess he never really stopped looking for me. I guess he never really patched things up with his wife, and from what I hear I guess his kid never really forgave him.
So I fled and have been running, the demons not far behind me. The pain and mental anguish pounding at my skull like a migraine that just won’t go away no matter how many times I vomit.
Those demons caught up with me tonight in that club. A clouded brain with a racing heart, a bitter cold feeling in my chest like I was drowning in ice as those demons gave me this wound. Then I saw you Grace. And all of that went away.
Nathan and Grace now lying next to each other in bed resting their head upon the others. Nathan has recounted his entire life story. And just as he said to her in the car it was long story. But like a child watching a puppet show she stared into his eyes and listen to him recount every painful moment.
She found herself squeezing his hand when he got to the really terrifying moments. Nathan accepting her and giving every last detail. Most people would have locked him up and threw away the key but not Grace.
She leans up and kisses him on the forehead.
Grace: And I thought my life was complicated.
Doe: Well what’s your story?
Grace: I can’t top that.
Doe: Few can…
Grace: I just have the typical father issues coupled with an insane desire to tell society to f*ck off.
Doe: A classic, I take it you’re a fan of John Hughes.
Grace: I’m not much for Ringwald. The characters she played are really the ones I want to put a knife to.
Doe: Even after seeing the breakfast club?
Grace: Especially after seeing the breakfast club. That movie pisses me off more than anything else because it was written by some white nerd trying to capture an unrealistic bond between the freaks and the pretty people. The benders that I know would have stuffed that detention monitor in a locker and carved him a new face.
Nathan laughs almost uncontrollably. Grace chuckles with him.
Grace: You thinking what I am thinking?
Doe: Judd nelson is and underrated actor?
Grace: Eat…My…Shorts…
Doe: Second interlude.
The sheets are pulled over top of them…
I wasn’t sure I wanted to come back. I knew in my hart that it was where I belonged but I have spent so much of my life running away from everything. It only comes natural I should try to run from my destiny. But no matter how long you ignore your destiny fate always throws a curveball.
Wrestling is what took me from the dark desolate plains of a dry water existence and gave me something more. It gave me a reason to love and a will power to fight the demons. Everyone gets a little crazy sometimes. It’s how we cope that defines us. I used wrestling to cope, not as a crutch but as a weapon.
I was still convinced that leaving was the right thing to do but Grace thought otherwise. She begged and pleaded with me for weeks to turn back and face everything head on but I didn’t have the strength to do it alone.
She promised to come with me. That was an offer I could not refuse. We hit the gyms to get me back into fighting shape. She has a way about her, she call yell. She would make Emerson proud. In many ways even he would approve of her toiling his work, reshaping me.
A few weeks later she had the nCw executives on the phone and had negotiated a contract. It was actually rather easy. People jumped at the chance to have that crazy guy back. That psychopath…I somehow make it cool. It’s not just your typical run of the mill psycho character we see duplicated so often but one that is a testament.
People still speak my praise. T hey remember how New Disease came in strong. They remember how we took out Dirty Deal without any effort. They remembered just how violent I could be and when I look into Graces eyes I see what they see in me.
And that gives me a new found strength I have never had before. She makes me dangerous and for once I do not fear for me but for those who oppose me….
The camera turns on to reveal the fiery red head Grace adorned in the most fashionable of punk rock cloth. Does voice is heard from behind the camera ok ok it’s on, it’s working hear take the camera.
We see the ground as he passes the camera to her. She focuses and we see Nathan Doe in his Crimson Skull jacket.
Grace: Perfect baby, you look f’ing scary…
Doe: Do I? I feel pretty badass…
Grace: Oh you do I am feeling a little hot.
Doe: Give me a sweet introduction.
She zooms in closer to Doe, the foreground disappearing.
Grace: ladies and Gentlemen beware the Charismatic Mad Man has surfaced. No sudden movements and by no means no flash photography. We do not want to set this beast off. Lets have a closer look.
Doe: Three weeks ago I made a return to the nCw. A few people saw it as a monumental piece of history. One that which brought back one of the most talented and deadly wrestlers ever to step foot into the squared circle, my the trade papers were buzzing.
But most of that buzz didn’t quite make it here to the nCw. I was put in a fatal fourway match billed as someone about to make his wrestling debut and although I crushed everyone in that match including Tommy Victor and Chris Payne it was almost forgotten about a week later.
I don’t know why, people reacted the way they did. I mean it was New Disease in the same nCw ring again for the first time in almost a year. Not as tag team partners but as foes…Yet we were lost in the shuffle…
That’s a great way to describe how I am feeling still, three weeks later. Lost in the shuffle…Even though I turned a few heads I lost at the opportunity to have a match against the X champion and once again found myself on the C show against a Z rate opponent.
I had begun to become a little discouraged. Until the card was released for A Night to Remember. I have been booked in a showcase match against five other wrestlers. And the winner of this match is awarded any title match of their choosing at any time they wish. Six warriors will be battling for this honor and this is not going to be easy.
Hell the name of the match alone puts an insurmountable amount of pressure on us participants. SHOWCASE MATCH. This is an opportunity for us to demonstrate on a card stacked with great matches like Sephiroth Du Lac* vs. Doc, Xavier Cross* vs. Charlie Velez vs. Venom and Angel vs. Gib* vs. Will Washington that we are the ones to watch, then when everything is on the line we are the ones who are going to stand up and take the spotlight.
No disrespect to the rest of the participants of Night to Remember but that pay per view will be my night not theirs. Championships may be defended, someone’s leaving in a casket and titles may just change hands but Nathan Doe earning a title match of his choosing will be the one everyone remembers. Just take a look at my opponents.
Tommy Victor, he and I came into this company together. Left it together and now as fate would have it returned together. We have been in the ring with each other once already and I came out on top. It looks as though he has not learned to be a singles wrestler, and even worse he appears to be suffering from some Nathan Doe like sanity problems. I can recommend a guy but he isn’t that good. I guess we are just going to have to fix you the right way. An old fashioned beat down will set you straight. And I will be happy to deliver that package.
Next is Chris Payne the second generation prodigy. He debuted against me a few weeks ago and despite all of the hype he looked more like Severe’s gym sock rather than the fruit of his loins. I really don’t see how this guy thinks so highly of himself he is a punk…
Grace: Hey don’t group him with us…
Nathan Doe: Then again when look at his father maybe the kid is a prodigy. Because I beat the snot out of Severe Pain even worse than I destroyed Chris himself. So all things considered Chris as long as you aren’t shining boots like your father you can call yourself a success. However as long as you are in the ring with me kiddo you are far from a victory.
Next up we have Diamond Dallas Page…This guy I am excited to wrestle…
Grace: Baby, no…It’s not Diamond Dallas Page it’s Diamond Dallas Kanyon…
Nathan stares at her completely at a loss for words…
Grace: I guess he is crazy…
Nathan Doe: Oh yeah that’s right. Old Curtis Kanyon in a blond wig. I guess he is playing crazy now…Dear lord how many gimmicks does this guy have to steal? I mean Diamond Dallas…Peoples champion? If I didn’t know any better I would think you were some jackoff kid wrestling in his backyard for mommy and daddy…But maybe since your crazy now we can use that as an excuse.
I just remembered I am Nathan Doe the craziest mother ****er to ever step foot in a wrestling ring. What you are doing Kanyon is masquerading about in a wig trying to be the funny man but the problem is you’re just not any funny, Maybe you should steal some jokes next time you’re shopping for gimmicks.
I want to make it perfectly clear that New Disease stomped the hell out of Dirty Deal and I am going to do it again. You can show up in a wig pretending to be much more famous and much more talented people but when the bell rings and the fists begin to fly you and your stupid Gore, excuse me spear, excuse me the bang mean absolutely nothing.
Then there is Jason Blair…I have never been in the ring with Jason Blair but he seems to have had no trouble making a statement against wrestlers like…Freakke the clown. He is ruthless, cold and calculated. He cares nothing about nothing other than winning whatever the cost may be…
Isn’t it abundantly clear that I am reading from the nCw profile on this man? I mean come on this dude has been here long enough for a cup of coffee and a match with Freakke the clown. And he is being given an opportunity for a title match of his choosing? Really? I am just flabbergasted…
Which finally brings me to Brad Kane…I am sure when you here my speak his name you slide up in your seat, lean forward just a bit and leap out of your seat in excitement. After all he did just beat Angel.
Grace: Holy Sh*t that’s like impossible.
Nathan Doe: I know right? So off of the heat of that victory he is the odds on favorite to win this match. He learned a little bit about life, he can’t be superman always and he went on to prove just why he shouldn’t be the favorite here. AND I QUOTE
Pretty sure I'm forgetting a couple of people right now too but I'm sure they'll yell at me for forgetting who they are. Sorry but I'm just a little out of it right now gents, my shoulder and all. So, at A Night To Remember. We'll see who gets that contract for any title shot when they want it. I'd like to think it'll be me but I'll just wait and see.
This man who is so unprepared he can’t even learn the card? He can’t even know all of his opponents? Either he lucked into beating Angel and is as dimwitted as he appears or he is one cocky and smarmy douche who purposely ignore me.
I don’t know if you meant to piss me off the way that you did with this comment but you did, and you are going to learn that Nathan Doe is not one to be forgotten. I am am going to hurt you for this comment. I am going to maim you and win this match and shut up all of your supporters and reign in the era of the charismatic mad man will begin…
nCw I hate to say it but I am going to steal the show. At A night to remember Nathan Doe will be the one remembered.
Grace: Hey, wake up man.
Rubbing his eyes he sits up and leans forward close to the flip down mirror. He examines the wound, closed up by Graces super glue. It should make a terrific scar and a terrible infection.
Grace: I thought you were hardcore man.
Doe: As hardcore as they come.
Grace: Well you aren’t acting hardcore fella. That’s the third time you fell asleep. I thought I told you I need company or I may pass out and drive off a bridge or into a 7/11.
Doe: Sorry, I just haven’t slept in days.
Grace: You’re gonna be a lot more sorry when I start seeing Z’s and red and green sweaters while the car careens off a cliff.
Doe: Yeah…We don’t want that.
Grace: And what’s with this sarcasm huh?
Doe: What are you talking about?
Grace: Man if I knew you were going to be this cranky I may have left you at the club.
Doe: Why did you bring me?
Grace: I don’t know yet…And if you don’t stay awake and talk to me here we probably won’t find out either. What do I need to do here? Are you hungry? There’s a slim Jim in the glove box if you want it.
Doe: Thanks but I don’t need anything.
He stares out of the window. Watching as they pass the bums sleeping in Central Park
Grace: Didn’t you have a story to tell me huh? We have been driving for an hour and you still haven’t spilled the freaking beans man.
Doe: I have been avoiding the issue.
Grace: Clearly…Come on man. What are you running from? And don’t give me that it’s a long story crap. Because we still have another hour at least. That’s if we don’t get caught in the morning traffic. Speak up man.
Nathan looks away from the outside world, turning to Grace. His mind races as sees her eyes almost leap from her face and into his heart. Maybe it’s the mascara, maybe it’s the way she wears her hair, it could be that short plaid skirt and torn fishnets. But then again there has to be something else.
He wouldn’t be ready to bare his soul to any chick he met in a punk club. He lets out a deep sigh. She halts at a red light and looks across to him, lifting the tangled hair from covering his face.
Doe: Ok, but we are in it for the long hall here. This may get heavy when it does I don’t want you thinking about dropping this loony off at the next bus stop.
Grace: We all have a story man. Don’t be embarrassed. I am sure I am just and messed up as you pal.
Nathan musters a smile.
Grace: Hey there, that’s a first.
Doe: Oh man, where to start…
Grace how about the beginning?
Doe: Ok…
The musty apartment complex smells like a disgusting mixture of cigarettes, beer, and the meth lab form the next apartment over. The child sits filthy in unwashed clothing playing with is Jake the Snake and Ultimate warrior action figures. The child is closed off in his room, in his own little world, far away from the violence happening in the next room over. Until the bedroom door opens and frightens the boy.
His mother slams the door open. Her hair looks as if its been pulled out, her nose is bleeding. There is a broken set of eye glasses within her grasp as she walks over and grabs the child’s hand.
Mother: Come on we are leaving.
He drops his wrestlers as he is lifted off his feet and out of his make believe world and back into the harsh reality.
Child: But mom…
Mother: Shut up you brat. I said we are leaving.
She pulls him down a dark hallway, stopping at the closet to grab her jacket to place over her dirty night gown. From the hallway the child’s mother pulls him into the living room. The lamp is knocked over on the floor leaving the room with only a tiny trace of light shining from behind the old sofa.
A toilet flushes and moments later the boys father emerges from the dark hall way. The knocked over lamp giving him a back light effect ala Hitchcock. He speaks with a shrewd voice.
Father: Where do you think you are gong?
Mother: We are leaving.
Father: No you’re not.
Mother: Fu** You! I don’t answer to you.
Father: Who do you think you are talking to b**ch
His mother walks past his father, pulling the child toward the door. The man lunges at the door as the woman attempts to open it. The door not only slams shut put protrudes outward broken.
Father: I said you are not going anywhere you druggie b**ch!
His hand comes down across the boys head, effortlessly tossing him across the room. This is just the beginning. He backhands the woman; she falls back into the wall crying out a hound like yelp. More blood pours from her nose.
Father: Go sit down.
She covers herself, cowering from her husband. She slaps and swats at him and he grabs her by the shoulders and slams her into the sofa.
Father: I said sit!
The boy watches helplessly as his mother is assaulted once more. Then the man turns his attention to the boy, who is standing patiently hands together thumbs moving in unison almost knowing his turn is next.
Mother: Yeah do it…Go ahead…Prove you’re a man.
Father: Shut your mouth or you’re going to need an ambulance.
He steps up to the boy, sipping from bottle of cheap whiskey. He finishes it with an impressive chug and tosses it aside. It land with a thud on top the collection of bottles in the opposite part of the room.
Mother: You’re a real man. Woman beater, child abuser oh yeah. You are a real man.
He steps closer to the child. The boys eyes close. This is a moment of prayer. It is unanswered.
Father: Come here boy.
He steps forward. His father pulls him to the table and sits him down.
Father: Well boy. How old are you again?
Boy: Seven…
Father: Well boy I think that’s old enough for you to hear the truth. See your mother over there she is a whore.
Mother: (form across the room) Shut up!
Father: Not just a whore but a crack whore. The worst kind, she turns trick for dope boy. And when I hear about the crab she does I get a little upset. I put the food on the table, I provide the food for her fat ass, so every once in a while the b**ch needs a little reminder. You hear her running her mouth?
He silently stares at his father.
Father: Answer me boy, do you hear your crack whore mother flapping her gums?
He slams his clenched fist on onto the table.
Boy: Ye…Yeah…
Father: She still hasn’t learned her lesson has she?
The child knows what is coming, regard of whether or no he plays ball with the man. He remains silent.
Father: Guess you need some learning then to huh boy?
He belches the alcohol soaked breath resonates in the air.
A flick of the mans wrist sends the child off of the chair. He hits the floor and covers himself the best he can. As the boys father removes his belt and swats at him. His mother rushes over at the man and the two of them tussle. The child runs to his room. The door is slammed shut and then locked tightly…
Grace: Oh man…
Nathan looks away from her, feeling somewhat ashamed.
Doe: It didn’t end there.
It’s about an hour after the beating. The child has to go to the bathroom. He has held it all night. He used to just go in his pants to avoid his parents, until they started beating over that issue as well.
The door creaks despite his best effort to remain silent. Seems like the floor shudders with every step. As he walks past the living room to the bathroom he sees that both of his parents are still awake. The lamp is still knocked over onto the floor. His father deep into another bottle of whiskey sits near asleep on the couch and his mother at the kitchen table several lines of cocaine ready to be snorted.
The radio is on as usual, they can’t afford cable.
“And be a simple kind of man”
His fat her calls him over, the boy ignores him.
“And be something you'll love and understand”
The sounds of his mother snorting the drugs with a rolled up dollar bill send chills up his spine.
“Baby be a simple kind of man”
The drunken father struggles to get to his feet.
Father: Come here boy…
“Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?
Then you can”
His mother snorts again.
“Don't get your lust from the rich man's gold”
His father trips over his feet falling to a knee, as he reaches out for the boy.
“All that you need now is in your soul”
The boy runs to his mother for protection, she pushes him away as she finalizes her high.
“And you can do this, oh baby if you try”
His father gets hold of him again. And unleashes drunken furry.
“All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied”
Grace: I am sorry to hear that…That’s awful.
Doe: That was just another day.
Grace: Just another day?
Doe: Just another day, in another week, in another month, in another year.
Grace: Is that why you’re running?
Doe: That’s just the beginning. Like I said, it’s a long story.
Grace: You don’t…
Doe: It’s ok…That sort of continued every day of my life for about seven years.
Grace: Seven years?
Doe: Yeah…Until one night the man got really violent. See as I got older the beatings tended to get a little worse, and then a lot worse. My mother didn’t care. As long as she had powder up her nose or syrup in her veins she was happy.
Grace pulls around a bend and enters a parking garage.
Doe: One night he got pretty drunk and bashed me up pretty good. I was in my room you know. Lights out listening to Black Flag or something. He came in all drunked up and and just starts beating at me. Smashed my nose up.
Nathan looks down at his lap. Grace pulls the car into park.
Doe: He went back out to the living room and blasted the radio. When my eye sight came back I noticed all my blood on the bed. It was soaked. I don’t know what triggered it. Maybe it was Henry Rollins or maybe it was the fact that after fourteen years of abuse I had had it. But I went out there to the living room. He had sat down on the sofa.
Just like he always did. I grabbed an empty whisky bottle, Lord knows there were plenty to choose from and I smacked him. Right across the face, and my oh my did his nose explode.
Nathan chuckles at the memory, a tear falls down his cheek. Grace watches him with a consuming guilty interest. Neither of them realizes but she is running her fingers through his hair.
Doe: And I saw red I guess. I swung again and again and again and I don’t remember stopping. I remember my mother screaming…
“You little sh*t…How dare you!...I am calling the police”
Doe: That crazy b**ch really did call them to. She must have been high, because when the cops came she went to jail for possession and he went to the hospital in handcuffs. She got out on bail a few days later turns out she really was a whore. Her “Pimp” or whatever got her out.
Another tear appears rolling down his face. The two of them are closer now.
Doe: My father ended up doing heavy jail time. Well in typical fashion he made some enemies. Wound up being killed by a gang or something. I lied to the cops, told them I was going to stay at my grandmothers house.
Grace: Where did you go?
Doe: I never stopped moving really. I am still running.
Grace: You can stop running now.
Doe: The story isn’t over yet.
Grace: Call this the first interlude then.
She sits atop him and they embrace with a deep passionate kiss…
It was strange. I was somewhere between boy and a man. I never really stopped running. I would sleep on park benches and parking lots, sidewalks, under bridges, the woods. Pretty much if you name any unsanitary mud hole off of the top of your head I slept there.
It wasn’t easy being on my own, Christ I was just a kid. Not to say that I was innocent. My parents took whatever innocence I had long before I was on the run. I came of age before the cops could do anything about me skipping town.
I was beginning to get hungry, figuratively and literally. I needed to find some sort of income if I wanted to eat. Nothing really stuck with me. I am not a cook, I am terrible with money and all around a little unstable.
What I found was a blessing. Eventually it would be just another demon. I found a flyer that sent me back to the only part of my childhood I relished. An add for a local indy wrestling show. It hit me then that that was what I was meant to do. I was born and bred to be a circus act.
Just look at me. The tattoos, the attitude, I have been traveling all alone since I was fourteen years old. But this circus is violent. It’s not oohs and awes. It’s not just the greatest show on earth, it’s the most violent and that was a great way to unleash some of the pent up aggression.
Is many ways my journey began as a child but this moment of clarity is what I consider the beginning. I went to that show and saw some of the best wrestling I have ever seen and when the came to a close I went through as many people as I could trying to find a trainer. They all said the same thing.
I wasn’t good enough…That’s not how the business works…But then Coach Emerson found me. He took one look at me and said “So you want to be a wrestler”? I nodded at the good Coach. He smiled at me and then kicked me in the gut.
I was caught by surprise but even if I saw that foot coming from a mile away it would have hit me the same. What happened next much like half of my life is a blur. Next thing I knew I was in the Gym with Coach Emerson six days a week.
If those fellas up north fancied being in the Dungeon this was more like Rocky. Meat packing freezers and running down the freezing coastlines in jogging sweats. Then having the old wizened veteran beat the living crap out of me inside and outside of the wrestling ring.
Leg locks, wrist holds, neck locks, armbars, crossfaces, chicken wings, suplexes, back breakers, atomic drops, drop kicks, body slams, pile drivers, power bombs, all of the essentials followed by the extremes in every facet of the game. I studied him as if he were master splinter and I a mutant turtle he found in ooze just reaching those awkward teenage years.
He beat the living crap out of me for almost two years. When he was done knocking me around I had to build the ring and take it apart. Occasionally he threw me into a match to amuse him. It was clear I wasn’t yet ready when I basically jobbed out like a fool. It was all part of a much larger learning experience.
Then that gratifying day came along when Coach Emerson granted me with the passing marks. Giving me my wrestling diploma sealed with blood sweat and tears. But it didn’t come alone. I was told that there was more learning to do, I was no longer the student. I must know become the teacher.
He introduced me to his next project. A man named Tommy. He was kind of a family man type. A guy who knew he had mouths to feed but felt like there was something more out there. A blue chipper chasing the dream, knowing the odds were stacked against him. But I was living proof that you could achieve the dream and become the man you saw in your wildest dreams. That’s why Emerson chose me to help with Tommy. Although we were worlds apart we were one in the same.
The friendship was almost instantaneous. Tommy and I got on great and having just completed Emerson’s course myself he knew I could be trusted. After practice we would all go have a beer at the local pub you know it was right next to Emerson’s.
Finally after twenty years of feeling alone I had not only a friend in Tommy, no we were brothers. Not by blood but by bond. We both bleed with each other and went through severe pain with each other but knew it was leading to something big.
Then the day came when he and I signed with the nCw. Things were finally paying off for us. After three years of training, starving and striving for more the tag team duo of New Disease made it to the big time.
But it came with a price. Even early on I felt my sanity slipping. I was haunted by my past. I began seeing things…Impossible things. The corpse of my dead father not only out and about like a Romero flick but soon after he came to me like full blown Edgar Allen Poe.
With my head no longer in the game we began to slip. Despite a few very impressive weeks New Disease was slipping and it was my fault. One lose after another, because Tommy was more concerned about me being healthy than winning the match. He couldn’t prepare because he was taking care of me.
His family now growing tired of the business and his never being around. His marriage took a huge strain and it was my fault. I knew I had only one choice. I had to run. So I packed my bags and left the hotel. I never told a soul. Neither Tommy nor any other member of the nCw would ever see me again.
Of course I meant this to be noble. I am a basket case for Christ sakes. Tommy was supposed to keep going. Live his dream without me dragging him down. I guess he never really stopped looking for me. I guess he never really patched things up with his wife, and from what I hear I guess his kid never really forgave him.
So I fled and have been running, the demons not far behind me. The pain and mental anguish pounding at my skull like a migraine that just won’t go away no matter how many times I vomit.
Those demons caught up with me tonight in that club. A clouded brain with a racing heart, a bitter cold feeling in my chest like I was drowning in ice as those demons gave me this wound. Then I saw you Grace. And all of that went away.
Nathan and Grace now lying next to each other in bed resting their head upon the others. Nathan has recounted his entire life story. And just as he said to her in the car it was long story. But like a child watching a puppet show she stared into his eyes and listen to him recount every painful moment.
She found herself squeezing his hand when he got to the really terrifying moments. Nathan accepting her and giving every last detail. Most people would have locked him up and threw away the key but not Grace.
She leans up and kisses him on the forehead.
Grace: And I thought my life was complicated.
Doe: Well what’s your story?
Grace: I can’t top that.
Doe: Few can…
Grace: I just have the typical father issues coupled with an insane desire to tell society to f*ck off.
Doe: A classic, I take it you’re a fan of John Hughes.
Grace: I’m not much for Ringwald. The characters she played are really the ones I want to put a knife to.
Doe: Even after seeing the breakfast club?
Grace: Especially after seeing the breakfast club. That movie pisses me off more than anything else because it was written by some white nerd trying to capture an unrealistic bond between the freaks and the pretty people. The benders that I know would have stuffed that detention monitor in a locker and carved him a new face.
Nathan laughs almost uncontrollably. Grace chuckles with him.
Grace: You thinking what I am thinking?
Doe: Judd nelson is and underrated actor?
Grace: Eat…My…Shorts…
Doe: Second interlude.
The sheets are pulled over top of them…
I wasn’t sure I wanted to come back. I knew in my hart that it was where I belonged but I have spent so much of my life running away from everything. It only comes natural I should try to run from my destiny. But no matter how long you ignore your destiny fate always throws a curveball.
Wrestling is what took me from the dark desolate plains of a dry water existence and gave me something more. It gave me a reason to love and a will power to fight the demons. Everyone gets a little crazy sometimes. It’s how we cope that defines us. I used wrestling to cope, not as a crutch but as a weapon.
I was still convinced that leaving was the right thing to do but Grace thought otherwise. She begged and pleaded with me for weeks to turn back and face everything head on but I didn’t have the strength to do it alone.
She promised to come with me. That was an offer I could not refuse. We hit the gyms to get me back into fighting shape. She has a way about her, she call yell. She would make Emerson proud. In many ways even he would approve of her toiling his work, reshaping me.
A few weeks later she had the nCw executives on the phone and had negotiated a contract. It was actually rather easy. People jumped at the chance to have that crazy guy back. That psychopath…I somehow make it cool. It’s not just your typical run of the mill psycho character we see duplicated so often but one that is a testament.
People still speak my praise. T hey remember how New Disease came in strong. They remember how we took out Dirty Deal without any effort. They remembered just how violent I could be and when I look into Graces eyes I see what they see in me.
And that gives me a new found strength I have never had before. She makes me dangerous and for once I do not fear for me but for those who oppose me….
The camera turns on to reveal the fiery red head Grace adorned in the most fashionable of punk rock cloth. Does voice is heard from behind the camera ok ok it’s on, it’s working hear take the camera.
We see the ground as he passes the camera to her. She focuses and we see Nathan Doe in his Crimson Skull jacket.
Grace: Perfect baby, you look f’ing scary…
Doe: Do I? I feel pretty badass…
Grace: Oh you do I am feeling a little hot.
Doe: Give me a sweet introduction.
She zooms in closer to Doe, the foreground disappearing.
Grace: ladies and Gentlemen beware the Charismatic Mad Man has surfaced. No sudden movements and by no means no flash photography. We do not want to set this beast off. Lets have a closer look.
Doe: Three weeks ago I made a return to the nCw. A few people saw it as a monumental piece of history. One that which brought back one of the most talented and deadly wrestlers ever to step foot into the squared circle, my the trade papers were buzzing.
But most of that buzz didn’t quite make it here to the nCw. I was put in a fatal fourway match billed as someone about to make his wrestling debut and although I crushed everyone in that match including Tommy Victor and Chris Payne it was almost forgotten about a week later.
I don’t know why, people reacted the way they did. I mean it was New Disease in the same nCw ring again for the first time in almost a year. Not as tag team partners but as foes…Yet we were lost in the shuffle…
That’s a great way to describe how I am feeling still, three weeks later. Lost in the shuffle…Even though I turned a few heads I lost at the opportunity to have a match against the X champion and once again found myself on the C show against a Z rate opponent.
I had begun to become a little discouraged. Until the card was released for A Night to Remember. I have been booked in a showcase match against five other wrestlers. And the winner of this match is awarded any title match of their choosing at any time they wish. Six warriors will be battling for this honor and this is not going to be easy.
Hell the name of the match alone puts an insurmountable amount of pressure on us participants. SHOWCASE MATCH. This is an opportunity for us to demonstrate on a card stacked with great matches like Sephiroth Du Lac* vs. Doc, Xavier Cross* vs. Charlie Velez vs. Venom and Angel vs. Gib* vs. Will Washington that we are the ones to watch, then when everything is on the line we are the ones who are going to stand up and take the spotlight.
No disrespect to the rest of the participants of Night to Remember but that pay per view will be my night not theirs. Championships may be defended, someone’s leaving in a casket and titles may just change hands but Nathan Doe earning a title match of his choosing will be the one everyone remembers. Just take a look at my opponents.
Tommy Victor, he and I came into this company together. Left it together and now as fate would have it returned together. We have been in the ring with each other once already and I came out on top. It looks as though he has not learned to be a singles wrestler, and even worse he appears to be suffering from some Nathan Doe like sanity problems. I can recommend a guy but he isn’t that good. I guess we are just going to have to fix you the right way. An old fashioned beat down will set you straight. And I will be happy to deliver that package.
Next is Chris Payne the second generation prodigy. He debuted against me a few weeks ago and despite all of the hype he looked more like Severe’s gym sock rather than the fruit of his loins. I really don’t see how this guy thinks so highly of himself he is a punk…
Grace: Hey don’t group him with us…
Nathan Doe: Then again when look at his father maybe the kid is a prodigy. Because I beat the snot out of Severe Pain even worse than I destroyed Chris himself. So all things considered Chris as long as you aren’t shining boots like your father you can call yourself a success. However as long as you are in the ring with me kiddo you are far from a victory.
Next up we have Diamond Dallas Page…This guy I am excited to wrestle…
Grace: Baby, no…It’s not Diamond Dallas Page it’s Diamond Dallas Kanyon…
Nathan stares at her completely at a loss for words…
Grace: I guess he is crazy…
Nathan Doe: Oh yeah that’s right. Old Curtis Kanyon in a blond wig. I guess he is playing crazy now…Dear lord how many gimmicks does this guy have to steal? I mean Diamond Dallas…Peoples champion? If I didn’t know any better I would think you were some jackoff kid wrestling in his backyard for mommy and daddy…But maybe since your crazy now we can use that as an excuse.
I just remembered I am Nathan Doe the craziest mother ****er to ever step foot in a wrestling ring. What you are doing Kanyon is masquerading about in a wig trying to be the funny man but the problem is you’re just not any funny, Maybe you should steal some jokes next time you’re shopping for gimmicks.
I want to make it perfectly clear that New Disease stomped the hell out of Dirty Deal and I am going to do it again. You can show up in a wig pretending to be much more famous and much more talented people but when the bell rings and the fists begin to fly you and your stupid Gore, excuse me spear, excuse me the bang mean absolutely nothing.
Then there is Jason Blair…I have never been in the ring with Jason Blair but he seems to have had no trouble making a statement against wrestlers like…Freakke the clown. He is ruthless, cold and calculated. He cares nothing about nothing other than winning whatever the cost may be…
Isn’t it abundantly clear that I am reading from the nCw profile on this man? I mean come on this dude has been here long enough for a cup of coffee and a match with Freakke the clown. And he is being given an opportunity for a title match of his choosing? Really? I am just flabbergasted…
Which finally brings me to Brad Kane…I am sure when you here my speak his name you slide up in your seat, lean forward just a bit and leap out of your seat in excitement. After all he did just beat Angel.
Grace: Holy Sh*t that’s like impossible.
Nathan Doe: I know right? So off of the heat of that victory he is the odds on favorite to win this match. He learned a little bit about life, he can’t be superman always and he went on to prove just why he shouldn’t be the favorite here. AND I QUOTE
Pretty sure I'm forgetting a couple of people right now too but I'm sure they'll yell at me for forgetting who they are. Sorry but I'm just a little out of it right now gents, my shoulder and all. So, at A Night To Remember. We'll see who gets that contract for any title shot when they want it. I'd like to think it'll be me but I'll just wait and see.
This man who is so unprepared he can’t even learn the card? He can’t even know all of his opponents? Either he lucked into beating Angel and is as dimwitted as he appears or he is one cocky and smarmy douche who purposely ignore me.
I don’t know if you meant to piss me off the way that you did with this comment but you did, and you are going to learn that Nathan Doe is not one to be forgotten. I am am going to hurt you for this comment. I am going to maim you and win this match and shut up all of your supporters and reign in the era of the charismatic mad man will begin…
nCw I hate to say it but I am going to steal the show. At A night to remember Nathan Doe will be the one remembered.