TONY GAMBLE DOUBLE TROUBLE, TRIPLE FUN SUPER AWESOME ADORATION TIME
The scene cuts to Tony Gamble sitting at a desk that is not his own (unless he is leading a double life as D’quan Bordeaux, Marketing Assistant Manager of the Smoothie King Center). Tony Gamble is on the phone talking about t-shirts or something, Mortimer Knightingale doesn’t seem to be too interested in what the Grin is saying or doing, he is more focused on the tie around his neck over his tracksuit. Mortimer sits in the chair with a half smile, feeling the softness of his tie as his leg bounces up and down anxiously. Cruz and Pastore stand behind Mortimer on either side.
Finally, Tony Gamble finishes his call and finally notices Mortimer Knightingale, fashion trendsetter.
Tony Gamble: What the hell are you wearing?
Mortimer Knightingale: What? Nothin’. It’s a gift from Mori.
Tony Gamble: Mori… That the little girl that caused you to be “unavailable” when we visited my good friend Sargeant Dickson’s family?
The finger quotes that went along with the emphasis of the word unavailable were rather aggressive, as Tony leans forward in his chair with a frown on the right side of his face. Mortimer looks up from the mesmerizing silk tie adorning his white and teal tracksuit.
Mortimer Knightingale: I would need to adorin’ly peruse my daily calendar in your honor but I would say, definitely possible, dependin’ on the time and date of which this rendezvous with this Sargeant Nixon and family had befallen….Your Adoredness.
Tony Gamble: Look at you. I bet you’re smiling under that damn mask, too.
Mortimer Knighingale: Like a million bucks.
Gamble clasps his hands together and rests his elbows on the desk.
Tony Gamble: A million bucks, huh? Probably counterfeit, as fake as you are. If she only knew the real you.
The frown curls into a devilish grin while Mortimer’s smile turns into a scowl.
Tony Gamble: Poor girl practically broke down crying on Jabber when someone told her what “hog” she was asking Colton to show her. Can you imagine the trauma she’d go through if she learned about your old tricks?
Mortimer Knightingale stares silently at the Grin, processing what he had just said to him, this not-so-subtle threat. The idea of Tony Gamble exposing Mori to certain details from his past, both criminal and not (including what Mortimer still believes to be an artistic film about sexual addiction – certainly not a straight to DVD nudie flick – “The Trauma of Tricks”), the consequences of her finding out. His face gets redder and redder with anger.
Mortimer Knightingale: You wormy little prick!
Mortimer curses himself under his breath as his anger becomes clouded with anxiety and worry and immediately regrets his outburst. For the second time this evening, Mortimer struggles to get his words out, only this time, there is no song to sing. After a moment, he takes a breath, puffing himself up, ready to stand up in defiance, but he exhales and Mortimer becomes a picture of a resigned man.
Mortimer Knightingale: I’m sorry. What do you want from me, huh? Cuz it ain’t adoration. Why can’t you just forget this whole “G.A.S.” bullshit and just……let me be……
Tony shakes his head, taken aback by the notion that he would want anything else but Mortimer’s adoration. What else could he offer that Tony couldn’t get or do for himself.
Tony Gamble: And I thought I was supposed to be the funny one. You almost had me there, Morty. In all honesty though, the only thing I want from you is to be there when I need you. I’ve given you plenty of slack the last few months, hoping you’d come around on your own and be the guy I need you to. But here you are asking me to just let you be.
His brows furrow as his eyes narrow, the angry smile replacing the devilish one as he stands up and starts making his way around the desk.
Tony Gamble: You have a lot of nerve acting like it’s my fault you’re in this position. As if it was me running my mouth that got unwanted attention from people that don’t like being under the proverbial spotlight to begin with. You had your chance for me to let you be, and you weren’t able to earn that right. So now here we are, and you and the Angry Luchador are trying to make me out to be the bad guy in this situation.
Gamble leans back against the edge of the desk, slightly to the left of Knightingale. He folds his arms across his chest, looking down at the impressive tie that Mori must have spent a while deciding on.
Tony Gamble: I’m not the bad guy, Morty. What I am, is a man that really likes attention…attention that I expect you to provide.
Mortimer Knightingale: Attention….
Mortimer cannot help but scoff and shake his head. He leans forward and places his head in his hand, looking to the ground. After a couple of seconds he looks over at the Grin.
Mortimer Knightingale: And should I tell you to go fuck yourself and walk out, sometime in the not-to-distant future, Mori will come into possession certain facts about my past. Certain business acts that may have resulted in some degenerate gambler gettin’ beat with a baseball bat in front of her…or his kids, among other related…occupational necessities I was sent to collect on, as well as copy of a certain film, both of which has the propensity to dramastically hinder my buddin’ relationship with her unless I give you some “attention”, at which point, she doesn’t find out about my less than reputable past, does that about Cliff Note it?
Tony Gamble gives an affirmative response. Mortimer considers this, he takes a deep breath and rises from his chair and caresses the tie against his chest.
Mortimer Knightingale: What the fuck’s a-matter with you? Mommy and Daddy didn’t give you enough hugs? Maybe you’re just a fucked up psycho. Or maybe it just pisses you off that someone you percept to be someone that’s not worthy to wipe your ass has found somethin’ special with someone that’s not you. Fuck you.
Mortimer Knightingale and Tony Gamble stare each other down before the masked wrestler returns to his seat.
Mortimer Knightingale: That bein’ said……okay.
Mortimer lets the word linger in the air as he turns his head and begins to look around the room, considering his options, avoiding any form of contact with Tony before slowly nodding.
Tony Gamble: “Okay” what? I want you to look me in the eyes and I need to hear you say it.
Mortimer Knightingale looks at Tony Gamble, square in the eyes, his lips twitch ever so slightly.
Mortimer Knightingale: I….will provide you….with whatever attention you need when you need it.
Tony Gamble: Great. You can start now. Give me your tie.
Mortimer Knightingale: My tie???
Mortimer Knightingale clutches his tie like a woman clutching her purse walking down the street in a rather unsavory neighborhood.
Mortimer Knightingale: It’s a gift!
Tony Gamble: Yeah. From you to me. Hand it over. Or….maybe Frank and Domingo make a delivery to your little girlfriend.
Mortimer rises from his chair, his face twitches underneath his mask as he removes the tie from his neck. Before handing it over, he looks at it in his hands. The faint sound of a sniffle can be heard as his hand trembles with the clothing accessory in his hand before placing it on the desk.
Tony Gamble: This sure beats a bath bomb, am I right guys?
Tony picks up the tie and admires it for a moment.
Tony Gamble: Yeah, this is going to look so much better on me. You can go now.
Mortimer Knightingale stands in front of Tony Gamble, eyeing the tie. The tie that he knows Mori chose specifically for him. The Macy’s tie. The tie which Mortimer believes Mori chose from that department store knowing in some capacity that his time working at Macy’s, before getting sucked into his cousin’s world, was among his fondest. Tony Gamble dismissively waves Mortimer Knightingale as if he were a servant. Mortimer reluctantly turns around and walks out the door as the scene comes to an end.