
Every New Beginning
Post-show…
The soles of a pair of size 14 steel toe boots, crossed at the ankles, rest on a glass coffee table. The rugged frame of the man they belong to is a familiar face to the PRIME Faithful, despite a gray head of hair and short beard that was once brown and goatee’d:
Wade god-damn Elliott.
The ‘Bama Bruiser’s sharp blue eyes comb over a yellow legal pad, squinting and studying. Finally, he looks up and across the room.
Wade Elliott: I ain’t much fer poetry, but those’re some pretty words, Dam.
Leaning against the wall is another familiar face: the hulking 6’6” frame of Danny Ferguson’s former bodyguard: Dametreyus. Dam smiles, sporting a shaved head and gray stubble-beard of his own. Each man wears a black t-shirt, the PRIME logo screened onto the left pectoral with their names written in white block lettering. “Head of Security” is written under that.
Dametreyus: Shit, that’s real nice of ya, Wade. Just a rough draft is all. Been thinkin’ about puttin’ another collection together.
Wade Elliott: (looking back to the writing, baffled) I mean…th’ IMAGERY of the thing. Makes a man question all the wrongs he’s done. Shows ya a sort’ve…window, to a diff’rent world. A life that coulda been…
The Bad Dog looks over his left shoulder, holding up the legal pad.
Wade Elliott: You read this shit, Lindsay? God damn unbelievable!
The camera pans up, revealing Lindsay Troy sitting behind a desk. The Queen of the Ring looks exhausted, arms across her chest, head tilted back with her eyes shut.
Lindsay Troy: I have signed first edition copies of everything Dam’s published. Of course I’ve read it.
She opens one eye and smirks at Wade.
Lindsay Troy: I’m surprised you even know what “imagery” is, by the way.
Wade Elliott: That’s a testament to yer ignorance, not mine.
Lindsay Troy: (Still smirking) Touché, salesman.
She leans forward, allowing her arms to fall on top of her desk, and glances between her two long-time friends.
Lindsay Troy: So….the show went OK, right? I mean, it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, but, it was alright…right?
It’s a rare moment of anxiety and nervousness from a normally unflappable, confident woman. Lindsay Troy never lets anyone see her sweat, but the truth of the matter is: she’s putting a lot of pressure on herself. Resurrecting one of the most popular wrestling promotions of all time and endeavoring to do it justice in the Entertainment Capital of the World is a tall order.
Dametreyus: It was a damn good show, Boss. And I saw Cirque Du Soleil last night, so that’s sayin’ something.
Lindsay Troy: And things on the security side?
Wade Elliott: Nothin’ to write home about. A few drunk idiots tried sneakin’ backstage, but the Enemigos took care’ve it quick.
The Southern Sparkplug pushes off his knees to stand with a small groan, turning toward the Lady of the Hour.
Wade Elliott: The show went great. Take a breather.
Lindsay Troy: Yeah…I’ll take a breather after tomorrow morning’s meeting with Melvin.
She stands up as well and smiles.
Lindsay Troy: I know I’ve said this about a dozen times already at least, but I couldn’t do this without you two.
Before the Co-Heads of Security can reply, there’s an obnoxious, pointed knock at the door that draws the attention of Wade, Dametreyus, and of course, Lindsay Troy. Enter the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion, and current crosstown thorn in the Queen of the Ring’s side, Joshua Breedlove. He is sarcastically slow-clapping as he stands in the doorway.
Joshua Breedlove: Wow. Unbelievable work you’ve done here. Amazing. What a GREAT first show.
Breedlove rolls his eyes.
Joshua Breedlove: I mean, it’s no SHOOT Project, but then again there’s… no place like home, right?
He clicks his heels together, Dorothy style. Dametreyus moves away from the wall, Wade squares his body towards Breedlove, and Lindsay rolls her eyes.
Lindsay Troy: Joshua. How brave of you to leave the circus at home and show up here all by your lonesome. I’d ask why but since you live to annoy me, I already know the answer.
Joshua Breedlove: Oh puhleeeeeze. I just wanted to congratulate you on a great first show, hun. You know, as one does. I enjoyed being here tonight. Did you know I was here? I’m sure you didn’t. I’m sure you’re surprised to see me, but I’m Joshua fuckin’ Breedlove, babe. I go where I want, when I want. That’s the luxury of being me. I just… you know, I wanted to see how the other half lived.
He smiles, leaning against the door jamb.
Joshua Breedlove: Enjoy this, Lindz. Enjoy that you get to be here and that you don’t have to go back to that mean old SHOOT place and face that mean old champion. But hey, if you’re feeling a little froggy, you can just stay here with Barney and Fred or…
He grins.
Joshua Breedlove: You still have a key to my condo… you’re welcome to come back for a nightcap.
On that note, Wade takes a couple big steps forward and slams a big palm against Breedlove’s chest, pushing him into the hallway.
Wade Elliott: (seething) I think you wandered into th’wrong office, son. Here, me an’ Dam’ll show you the parkin’ lot.
Dametreyus positions just behind Wade, making a move to “escort” Breedlove out of the building, but Joshua takes a few steps back into the hall, holding his hands up.
Joshua Breedlove: Don’t worry guys, I’ll leave. I’m out. See ya, dear.
He puts his hand underneath his chin and waves towards Lindsay Troy before stepping away. The Queen flips him the bird as he goes, which he doesn’t see, and then flops back into her chair. Wade watches him leave before returning to the office and closing the door behind him.
Lindsay Troy: (muttering) Toddler.
Dametreyus: Can have the Enemigos slash his tires.
Lindsay Troy: Don’t bother, I’m gonna handle him soon enough.
She looks at the Bad Dog, who’s still fuming.
Lindsay Troy: Could use a drink, though.
Wade Elliott: Well, I ain’t gonna stop ya.
The Queen reaches under her desk, producing three shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in the other. Wade and Dam move to the desk as she fills each glass, each taking one in their hand.
Wade Elliott: Got any more’ve them pretty words, Dam?
Dametreyus: (holding up his shot glass) “Every new beginnin’ comes from some other beginnin’s end.” Seneca.
Lindsay Troy: That’ll do.
The three clink their glasses and throw back their bourbons, slamming the crystal onto the top of the desk.