Post by Cliff Clinton on Dec 7, 2012 3:09:30 GMT -6
Cliff Clinton stands with his back against the sink, facing a man he never met that was swinging a lead pipe dangerously close to his face. The guy, who looks really upset by the way, takes another swing and you can actually see a breeze run through Cliff’s mangled beard.
“STAY BACK!”
The stranger shouts, his wife fearing for the both of there lives in the background.
“John, be careful, he may have rabies or something…..”
Can humans even get rabies? Cliff would look that up later, but right now he had more pressing matters. He has had a strange morning, but right now there was a guy holding him hostage in his own bathroom. He wouldn’t stand for this. He had to do something or “John” might bash his face in with that lead pipe!
“I do NOT have rabies!”
The brave John staggers back in fear as soon as Cliff opened his mouth and spoke. Cliff notices John had stopped trying to hit a home run with his head and feels a little more comfortable with the situation. Cliff takes a sigh of relief and steps forward.
“And as a matter of fact…..this is MY house! And you two are trespassing on my property!
John glances over at his wife and they both share a confused shrug. The truth is, John and Marie lived in this house for almost fifteen years now. Raised a son in college and a daughter in high school. They are both decorated members of the P.T.A and of course nobody could forget the year John ran for mayor.
“Are you high? My wife and I have lived here for forever. I’m a highly respected member of the community…..”
“Well….he’s a member of the community.”
“Can it Marie!”
John shoots a “don’t embarrass me in front of the crazy homeless looking guy who broke into our house” glare. Cliff has had enough of this crap. It was really getting a little old. It was time to set the record straight.
“Are you kidding me? Seriously…is somebody ribbing me here!? I bought this house back in ‘94. I raised a family here, fell in love with my wife here, all while entertaining the world every Sunday night! I’m Cliff Clinton! You know, CRUSHERMANIA IS RUNNIN WILD! Really prolific wrestler, stared in such films as “Mr. Housemaid. Pre-School Policeman. No Holds Banned, and other hit movies.”
John jabs the lead pipe in Cliff’s direction again.
“I’ve never heard of ANY of that! And I sure as hell haven’t heard of a Cliff Clinton! And I know my pop culture sir!”
Marie chimes in.
“It’s true…..he’s a wiz at “scene it”!
John’s real proud of the fact.
“Yup…even won a trophy in a tournament once….”
He arrogantly blows off the fingernails of the hand that isn’t currently threatening the life of our hero with a lead pipe. Cliff stands there just flabbergasted. This whole scenario was really starting to insult his intelligence.
“Now I know you two are crazy. How could you have never herd of me? I’m the most famous pro wrestler there ever was. I slammed the “Tall Man“! Pressed him over my head in front of ninety three thousand people! I jumpstarted an entire ERA of wrestling! And furthermore……this is MY HOUSE! I have pictures and my things all over this place! LOOK!”
He barges past John and his lead pipe and into the hallway. Here he expected to find pictures of himself and his family but instead all he saw were photos of John and Marie and there ginger kids! He ran into a room down the hall where he expected to find all the championships and promotional posters from the cards he main evented, but instead all he found was Marie’s sewing room and John’s Scene it trophy incased in glass.
“No. This doesn’t…….”
Cliff mutters to himself as he makes a horrible attempt at understanding what was going on. He ran into more rooms of the house, and he found each one of them to be completely different then what he had known them to be the day before. He grows more and more frantic, his breathing intensifies. He finds his way into the living room and just drops to his knees and tugs at his matted locks and cries in utter confusion.
“THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!!!!! THIS WAS MY HOUSE! I SWEAR IT WAS!!!!!”
Marie cries in fear in John’s arms. Even John seemed a little frightened at the sight of such a big guy losing his mind like this. John spots the police pulling up through the front window and feels a bit more at ease.
“There, there guy. The police will help you figure everything out. I’m sure they have somebody you can talk too. A nice padded cell you could sleep in……”
The police walk into the front door and see Cliff Clinton on his knees pulling at his hair. Two cops pull Cliff up to his feet and start handcuffing him and reading him his rights.
“No, wait! You got it all wrong! I wasn’t trying to rob these people! I swear! I live in this house! You have to believe me!”
Cliff tries to set the record straight but the policemen weren’t listening. The finished handcuffing him and started walking him toward the door.
“My name is Cliff Clinton! I’m the CRUSHER! Don’t you recognize me!? DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?!?!?”
No one did.
We open inside a dark dank room. There’s nothing real special about it, it’s just a room. After a few moments of nothing, the man we know as Cliff Clinton comes rolling onto the scene in a wheelchair. Cliff doesn’t look directly into the camera, instead he sit’s a little hunched over. His dark matted curly hair falls in front of his face and his moves a gloved hand to wipe it away.
“When I was eight years old….my grandfather was involved in an accident.”
His voice was soft and shaky.
“He was riding a horse and fell off, landing on his neck and he became paralyzed from the neck down and confined to a wheelchair. Just like the one I’m sitting in now. From that day forward he couldn’t do anything for himself. He couldn’t feed himself, he couldn’t bathe himself, the man couldn’t live by himself without my grandmother there to help him out. As an eight year old boy, I was mortified. My grandfather was just a shell. He couldn’t do anything but sit in his chair and smile.”
Cliff chuckles, his eyes swelling up at the warmness of his memory.
“and boy oh boy did he smile…..”
Another chuckle comes from the face full of hair.
“..and it baffled me. Here he was, confined to this horrible state, and he was smiling. Even when my grandmother was literally cleaning the fecal matter from my grandfathers ass, he had that damn smile on his face. And I could never understand it, so one day I finally decided to ask him. He told me….”Cliffy my boy…….I may be crippled…..but I know that when I look back on my life I know that I worked hard…..
Cliff’s voice cracks.
…….. I put in the effort to get the things I needed in life, and I’m proud to think that I made a good life for your grandmother and your father, and I raised your father right so that he makes you into a respectable young man as I raised him too. You see Cliffy…..everyone is gonna go sometime. But it’s what you leave behind, your legacy, is what people remember you for. And one day son, when your old and you’ve put in your hard work in your life and you look back on your life….I know you’ll have a reason to smile…..”
Cliff just stays very still, looking down toward the ground underneath a huge tuft of hair in front of his face. He almost looked cave man like and his stare was like he was looking at fire for the first time. But soon he snaps out of it and he slowly raises his still hidden face toward the camera.
“…well here we are GRANDPA!……DO I LOOK LIKE IM SMILING NOW!?!?”
He yells and shakes his head and his hair flys back and out of his face. His face just bursts with emotional rage.
“I’M OLD AND I’M CRIPPLED AND NOW I DON’T HAVE ANY REASON TO SMILE!”
His fingernails dig into the arms of the wheelchair. He calms himself down a bit before he continues.
“They took my smile, Caleb Lockwood. I don’t know who they are but they took it, they took my smile, they took my career, they took my life,, they took my damn legacy, they took everything away. Like it magically slipped away in the night like it was all a dream. They say it was a dream, Caleb…..”
Cliff lowers his head and rocks back and forth a bit in the wheelchair.
“I have nothing. I’m a shell of my former self Caleb…..I may as well be confined to this wheelchair forever. What do I have now to be *** damn happy about now? Huh Caleb? Oh sweet precious little Caleb Lockwood. The free runner with the big heart? With your mentor and your new extended family with The Ace and the gang? Tell me what do I have to smile about now? This stupid hair cut!? This wheelchair!? This run down shack of a studio apartment? GAH SCREW THAT!?”
Cliff leaps up out of the wheel chair picks it by the handles and whips the whole piece into the wall and the chair breaks into a couple pieces.
“No….all I have left….is the one thing they could never take from me…..”
He grimaces into the camera.
“Wrestling, Beating people up. The people who call me crazy….the people that say I’ve just fabricated my past, the people who think I’m just some deranged bum off the streets, the people who refuse to believe me. People like you Caleb Lockwood….this Saturday on Trauma you become the first of many who get to feel my wrath. And I’m not saying that to try and scare you I’m saying it because I really got….a whole….. lot of issues and rage to work out and you Caleb are just the tooth pick I can work some aggression on. I’m not coming to Trauma to win a match, no….my legacy is already gone…winning no longer matters, I’m just coming to beat the hell out of you, just like I plan to do to the next opponent and the next opponent and the next opponent….because taking all you bastards down with me will be the only thing that gives me pleasure….. beat me if you can, walk out of the building if I let you Caleb Lockwood…….your blood will be the first of many…..”
A sick twisted smile creeps up on his face.
“Oh ho…..you see that Grandpa?”
He points at his deranged grin.
“ That sure put a smile on your old grandson’s face….”
Fade out on his laughter.
Scene up inside the Chicago police station. The man we know as John stands in front of a police man. The cop looks at John with a questionable eyebrow.
“You sure about this sir?”
John nods his head.
“Oh yeah…..I mean it was partially my fault. I left the door unlocked. No need to press charges.”
Another cop walks Cliff out from the holding cell and takes off his handcuffs.
“I guess you are free to go sir.”
The young hot shot cop says reluctantly.
“But if we have to come back for you we will make you regret it!”
Cliff nods his head, still a little awe struck that he’s being released….and that’s when he noticed John….he looked a little different without the lead pipe.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
John shrugs it off like it was nothing.
“Yeah well I heard they euthanize the homeless in jail so I essentially just saved your life.”
Cliff looks away.
“I don’t have a life….not anymore….”
“That’s why I did this. My wife and I decided that we want to get you help and…..”
Cliff cuts him off.
“Wait a minute…..Did you just say wife?
Cliff lets that word resonate with him for a few moments before it finally dawned on him.
“JUDITH!?”
If he no longer existed…..what happened to her?
“STAY BACK!”
The stranger shouts, his wife fearing for the both of there lives in the background.
“John, be careful, he may have rabies or something…..”
Can humans even get rabies? Cliff would look that up later, but right now he had more pressing matters. He has had a strange morning, but right now there was a guy holding him hostage in his own bathroom. He wouldn’t stand for this. He had to do something or “John” might bash his face in with that lead pipe!
“I do NOT have rabies!”
The brave John staggers back in fear as soon as Cliff opened his mouth and spoke. Cliff notices John had stopped trying to hit a home run with his head and feels a little more comfortable with the situation. Cliff takes a sigh of relief and steps forward.
“And as a matter of fact…..this is MY house! And you two are trespassing on my property!
John glances over at his wife and they both share a confused shrug. The truth is, John and Marie lived in this house for almost fifteen years now. Raised a son in college and a daughter in high school. They are both decorated members of the P.T.A and of course nobody could forget the year John ran for mayor.
“Are you high? My wife and I have lived here for forever. I’m a highly respected member of the community…..”
“Well….he’s a member of the community.”
“Can it Marie!”
John shoots a “don’t embarrass me in front of the crazy homeless looking guy who broke into our house” glare. Cliff has had enough of this crap. It was really getting a little old. It was time to set the record straight.
“Are you kidding me? Seriously…is somebody ribbing me here!? I bought this house back in ‘94. I raised a family here, fell in love with my wife here, all while entertaining the world every Sunday night! I’m Cliff Clinton! You know, CRUSHERMANIA IS RUNNIN WILD! Really prolific wrestler, stared in such films as “Mr. Housemaid. Pre-School Policeman. No Holds Banned, and other hit movies.”
John jabs the lead pipe in Cliff’s direction again.
“I’ve never heard of ANY of that! And I sure as hell haven’t heard of a Cliff Clinton! And I know my pop culture sir!”
Marie chimes in.
“It’s true…..he’s a wiz at “scene it”!
John’s real proud of the fact.
“Yup…even won a trophy in a tournament once….”
He arrogantly blows off the fingernails of the hand that isn’t currently threatening the life of our hero with a lead pipe. Cliff stands there just flabbergasted. This whole scenario was really starting to insult his intelligence.
“Now I know you two are crazy. How could you have never herd of me? I’m the most famous pro wrestler there ever was. I slammed the “Tall Man“! Pressed him over my head in front of ninety three thousand people! I jumpstarted an entire ERA of wrestling! And furthermore……this is MY HOUSE! I have pictures and my things all over this place! LOOK!”
He barges past John and his lead pipe and into the hallway. Here he expected to find pictures of himself and his family but instead all he saw were photos of John and Marie and there ginger kids! He ran into a room down the hall where he expected to find all the championships and promotional posters from the cards he main evented, but instead all he found was Marie’s sewing room and John’s Scene it trophy incased in glass.
“No. This doesn’t…….”
Cliff mutters to himself as he makes a horrible attempt at understanding what was going on. He ran into more rooms of the house, and he found each one of them to be completely different then what he had known them to be the day before. He grows more and more frantic, his breathing intensifies. He finds his way into the living room and just drops to his knees and tugs at his matted locks and cries in utter confusion.
“THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!!!!! THIS WAS MY HOUSE! I SWEAR IT WAS!!!!!”
Marie cries in fear in John’s arms. Even John seemed a little frightened at the sight of such a big guy losing his mind like this. John spots the police pulling up through the front window and feels a bit more at ease.
“There, there guy. The police will help you figure everything out. I’m sure they have somebody you can talk too. A nice padded cell you could sleep in……”
The police walk into the front door and see Cliff Clinton on his knees pulling at his hair. Two cops pull Cliff up to his feet and start handcuffing him and reading him his rights.
“No, wait! You got it all wrong! I wasn’t trying to rob these people! I swear! I live in this house! You have to believe me!”
Cliff tries to set the record straight but the policemen weren’t listening. The finished handcuffing him and started walking him toward the door.
“My name is Cliff Clinton! I’m the CRUSHER! Don’t you recognize me!? DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?!?!?”
No one did.
We open inside a dark dank room. There’s nothing real special about it, it’s just a room. After a few moments of nothing, the man we know as Cliff Clinton comes rolling onto the scene in a wheelchair. Cliff doesn’t look directly into the camera, instead he sit’s a little hunched over. His dark matted curly hair falls in front of his face and his moves a gloved hand to wipe it away.
“When I was eight years old….my grandfather was involved in an accident.”
His voice was soft and shaky.
“He was riding a horse and fell off, landing on his neck and he became paralyzed from the neck down and confined to a wheelchair. Just like the one I’m sitting in now. From that day forward he couldn’t do anything for himself. He couldn’t feed himself, he couldn’t bathe himself, the man couldn’t live by himself without my grandmother there to help him out. As an eight year old boy, I was mortified. My grandfather was just a shell. He couldn’t do anything but sit in his chair and smile.”
Cliff chuckles, his eyes swelling up at the warmness of his memory.
“and boy oh boy did he smile…..”
Another chuckle comes from the face full of hair.
“..and it baffled me. Here he was, confined to this horrible state, and he was smiling. Even when my grandmother was literally cleaning the fecal matter from my grandfathers ass, he had that damn smile on his face. And I could never understand it, so one day I finally decided to ask him. He told me….”Cliffy my boy…….I may be crippled…..but I know that when I look back on my life I know that I worked hard…..
Cliff’s voice cracks.
…….. I put in the effort to get the things I needed in life, and I’m proud to think that I made a good life for your grandmother and your father, and I raised your father right so that he makes you into a respectable young man as I raised him too. You see Cliffy…..everyone is gonna go sometime. But it’s what you leave behind, your legacy, is what people remember you for. And one day son, when your old and you’ve put in your hard work in your life and you look back on your life….I know you’ll have a reason to smile…..”
Cliff just stays very still, looking down toward the ground underneath a huge tuft of hair in front of his face. He almost looked cave man like and his stare was like he was looking at fire for the first time. But soon he snaps out of it and he slowly raises his still hidden face toward the camera.
“…well here we are GRANDPA!……DO I LOOK LIKE IM SMILING NOW!?!?”
He yells and shakes his head and his hair flys back and out of his face. His face just bursts with emotional rage.
“I’M OLD AND I’M CRIPPLED AND NOW I DON’T HAVE ANY REASON TO SMILE!”
His fingernails dig into the arms of the wheelchair. He calms himself down a bit before he continues.
“They took my smile, Caleb Lockwood. I don’t know who they are but they took it, they took my smile, they took my career, they took my life,, they took my damn legacy, they took everything away. Like it magically slipped away in the night like it was all a dream. They say it was a dream, Caleb…..”
Cliff lowers his head and rocks back and forth a bit in the wheelchair.
“I have nothing. I’m a shell of my former self Caleb…..I may as well be confined to this wheelchair forever. What do I have now to be *** damn happy about now? Huh Caleb? Oh sweet precious little Caleb Lockwood. The free runner with the big heart? With your mentor and your new extended family with The Ace and the gang? Tell me what do I have to smile about now? This stupid hair cut!? This wheelchair!? This run down shack of a studio apartment? GAH SCREW THAT!?”
Cliff leaps up out of the wheel chair picks it by the handles and whips the whole piece into the wall and the chair breaks into a couple pieces.
“No….all I have left….is the one thing they could never take from me…..”
He grimaces into the camera.
“Wrestling, Beating people up. The people who call me crazy….the people that say I’ve just fabricated my past, the people who think I’m just some deranged bum off the streets, the people who refuse to believe me. People like you Caleb Lockwood….this Saturday on Trauma you become the first of many who get to feel my wrath. And I’m not saying that to try and scare you I’m saying it because I really got….a whole….. lot of issues and rage to work out and you Caleb are just the tooth pick I can work some aggression on. I’m not coming to Trauma to win a match, no….my legacy is already gone…winning no longer matters, I’m just coming to beat the hell out of you, just like I plan to do to the next opponent and the next opponent and the next opponent….because taking all you bastards down with me will be the only thing that gives me pleasure….. beat me if you can, walk out of the building if I let you Caleb Lockwood…….your blood will be the first of many…..”
A sick twisted smile creeps up on his face.
“Oh ho…..you see that Grandpa?”
He points at his deranged grin.
“ That sure put a smile on your old grandson’s face….”
Fade out on his laughter.
Scene up inside the Chicago police station. The man we know as John stands in front of a police man. The cop looks at John with a questionable eyebrow.
“You sure about this sir?”
John nods his head.
“Oh yeah…..I mean it was partially my fault. I left the door unlocked. No need to press charges.”
Another cop walks Cliff out from the holding cell and takes off his handcuffs.
“I guess you are free to go sir.”
The young hot shot cop says reluctantly.
“But if we have to come back for you we will make you regret it!”
Cliff nods his head, still a little awe struck that he’s being released….and that’s when he noticed John….he looked a little different without the lead pipe.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
John shrugs it off like it was nothing.
“Yeah well I heard they euthanize the homeless in jail so I essentially just saved your life.”
Cliff looks away.
“I don’t have a life….not anymore….”
“That’s why I did this. My wife and I decided that we want to get you help and…..”
Cliff cuts him off.
“Wait a minute…..Did you just say wife?
Cliff lets that word resonate with him for a few moments before it finally dawned on him.
“JUDITH!?”
If he no longer existed…..what happened to her?