Post by Davey Ortega on Oct 13, 2013 18:20:39 GMT
The scene opens inside Davey's apartment within The Casino. Davey is sitting at the kitchen table, his elbow on the table keeping his hand elevated as Cass, who is sitting next to him, is gently dabbing his busted knuckles with a wet wash cloth. She puts the cloth in the bowl of warm water before reaching over for and grabbing the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, opening it and carefully pouring it on Davey's knuckles. Unfortunately for Davey he was trapped in his own mind, unaware what Cass was about to do causing a...
Davey: AHHHHHHHHHH! THAT HURTS!!!
Cass: Well if you hadn't acted like a maniac and punched the wall a few times we wouldn't be here.
Davey goes to answer, but stops knowing she is right.
Davey: You get one of those...
Cass flashes a cheesy smile before she finishes cleaning his wounds, slapping on a fresh bandage on it. She gets up and begins clearing the table of the medical supplies as Davey extends his fingers, slowly balling them up to make a fist. He grimaces in pain the first few times before adapting to the sensation. He seems relived to know he can still make a fist with that hand. He slowly gets up, his eyes glancing around the room before walking to the window to view the outside world. He always had an affinity for looking out the world from his pedestal tower. A lingering lesson from his Uncle perhaps? The time for pondering recent events was cut short as soon as it began. The door opens with Jason entering the room, hand to his ear talking on his phone.
Jason: Please stop yelling...I'll tell him.
Jason pulls the device from his ear and looks over at Davey, who has a raised eyebrow and curious expression.
Jason: It's someone from the arena. They want you to pay for the damages you caused in the locker room.
The expression suddenly changed from curious to annoyance. His fingers quiver as he recalls the shooting pain every punch inflicted. He slowly walks towards Jason, takes the cell from his hand and holds it a foot from his face.
Davey: BILL SIMON DE MONTFORT, ASSHOLES!!!
Davey ends the call, tossing it the phone Jason and he catches it, without a single word or movement. Jason's eyes are wide, he was not expecting such a volatile reaction from Davey.
Jason: ...How's your hand?
Davey looks annoyed at the question.
Davey: Good enough to hit someone with. Possibly a certain someone who has yet to give me any news on the Maine project. You did your job, yes? Because I'm going to be completely honest with you...and I'm talking to you too Cass. I have not had the best starts to a week, in fact last Monday is going to go down as one of the darkest days in my life. So when I say I am right on the brink of a break down you do not want to be saying you did not do your job. Did you call?
Jason: ...Yes. Though their were some complications. From both the bank and the Real Estate agency. The property you want is about to be foreclosed upon, but the residents are still there and everyone seemed really uneasy about negotiating with me. Almost like they didn't care what the offer was.
Davey: That's called fear, Jason. They didn't want to deal with you because you represent me, and I don't perform shady tactics. I want that property for one reason, to turn it into a very exclusive Spa. I mean this is going to be the Captain Kirk of Spa's. That property has an ideal geographic isolation on two fronts, and a natural hot spring not more that 40 feet from it. I want this property Jason.
Jason: But Davey...it's a convent.
Davey: I know what it is. What? Do you think I go blind into lucrative opportunities? I know what it is, I'm well aware they don't want me to have it, objections based on nothing more but morality.
Jason: Davey...if you kick them out they won't have any where to go. Plus everyone I talked to said that they travel to various places helping people. They do good work Davey...they shouldn't be...
Davey: What? They shouldn't be what? They shouldn't be tossed to the curb because their ''good work'' failed to yield any profit? They should be spared the wrath of basic economics? Why? Because they are women of God? Because if we toss these ''virtuous'' women out in the cold, cruel world they might...what? Adapt? Survive? Abandon the vows they took just to get by? They should look at this as a test of their faith. One I am beginning to suspect you are are about to have...
Jason: I just...I don't know if I can knowingly make Nuns homeless. What if God...
Davey: You are not here for your religious convictions. You are here to help me handle day to day business, and to keep me grounded. So let me return the favor by keeping your two feet on the ground and close to reality. There is only room for one God in this Casino and it is not yours.
Jason stays silent, averting his eyes from his unstable employer. He clasps his hands behind his back and lets out a sigh, slowly raising his head until...
Cass: I'll do it. I'll handle negotiations if, he can cover the interview.
Davey: No. I want him to do it. I want you to go to the convent and convince the Mother Superior to sell, and sell while my offer is so generous. Convince her that this is God's will, or sell the whole Satan Knows Best shtick. I don't care how you do it just get me that property, and Jason...If you are having any thoughts about intentionally botching this acquisition I am going to ruin your fun, because Cass will be escorting you.
Cass: What? I have the interview all set up! A Girl Has No Name Robbins agreed to come here with an entire crew to do a full on 60 minute style interview. This wasn't an easy thing to get, she was really hesitant about interviewing you.
Davey: Yeah we have a bit of a history, and some more is about to be piled on. I'm going too need you to cancel that interview. Since you will be out in Maine with Jason, and I will be gone myself, there is no reason for her to come along and set up a whole production.
Cass: Where are you going?
Davey: Somewhere I should of gone a long time ago.
Cass: Davey I can't just cancel this. I went as far as giving my word and I never give my word...
Davey: Well congratulations Cass, your word has become less trustworthy than mine. Even I never make promises I can't keep. I said schedule an interview, not put it in stone. It's not my problem you have to explain to IWF why you can't get a green light from your boss for a simple interview. After the events of Sacrifice how could you think a public address would be healthy? I need time for reflection. So you will go to Maine with Jason, and you will cancel that interview.
Davey walks to and opens the door, leaving the apartment and his two newest minions to impress him.
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I forgot the feeling, the feeling of being slapped right across the face. The ultimate disrespect, and you know what's worse? People expect me to just roll with it. They want me to take it on the chin because I am not on Spike Kane's level. That he is so far above me, and everyone else, that they felt the need to reactivate an old nCw contract, bringing in The Awesome One himself. I think we can all be realistic that aside from Steve, no one else really stands out as top contender...
Well, almost no one.
You have to forgive me, this isn't my usual style but Monday night was a very surreal night, and I have to be honest with you Mike I'm not sure what's going to happen next, because you are the one person that stands out to me. I know you do not possess a perfect record when it comes to Spike, or a win at all, but everyone was talking about the last battle you two had. Hell even I was on the edge of my seat, and then you bounced back and won against Rob Diamond, another big name on that mythical level. I can't imagine your jolt when you saw the card and your name was not next to a member of his Empire, or the rising Killian Creed, it was next to a man who you have met before.
Hell imagine my surprise...
This is my shot to overcome my past, to beat back my demons and finally take my first real step towards redemption. You are coming off a big win from a true competitor, and this week I need to realize this dark Cinderella tale with the one thing you needed last week.
Mike I need the win. I am going to go out there knowing that I am considered the underdog, the guy that is being written off because his past seems too dictate his future. I need to prove that the choke artist in me died in the years I spent off the grid, in a drug and alcohol fueled delusion that somehow culminated in a five year absence. That person who choked when it mattered most is gone, all that is left is the need for revenge. I need to make him pay, to suffer, to endure an expiation that will take him beyond his threshold. Though to come anywhere near realizing that fantasy I need to overcome the obstacle in front of me. To be honest I don't think I could of been handed a more appropriate opponent.
You and I have a little history, and surprise surprise, it's not good. The last time you and I had a go it was over some silly little dispute about who dropped the ball when nCw made us tag team for a night. I got pinned, yet you were nowhere in sight to help. How about we just agree to disagree, because it does not matter who lost a trivial tag match a year ago. This is here, now..in IWF and the two of us haven't changed much have we? Mike I want you to know that I respect you, you have never been apologetic for your actions and have always been driven by pursuit of victory. You have been on the cusp of greatness for so long that I have waited for you to bust that glass ceiling...
And waited...and waited...
Did I not mention that I have thought you were the next big thing for over a year now? I'm just thankful that was one of the times I listened to Preston and didn't place a dime on any of your matches with Verona. I guess I really shouldn't bust your chops about it, he is like your Spike Kane. Only had I been face to face with my worst enemy I would of torn into him, regardless if it was in the bosses office. I don't think I could of kept myself as composed as you were, standing there as he talked down to you as if you were nothing but a peasant. A peon that could be replaced at the snap of a finger. That's the difference between you and I...
I would rather rip off the thumb before they could snap.
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We're here. The cab comes to a slow stop, just outside the former corporate offices of nCw. Davey Ortega opens the door stepping outside of the confined automobile. Davey walks to the drivers side window, hunching over to see the cab driver.
Cab driver: You sure this is where you want to go? Place looks locked up and abandoned.
It was true. The old building that once had a bustling life force looks drained, chains secured by locks wrapping the doors closed. Davey smiles before handing the cab driver his fare.
Davey: When one possesses the key of intelligence their is no such things as ''locks.'' I'll let you go home and ponder that.
Davey walks away from the cab, though could hear the word ''jerk'' muttered from the cab driver. Davey just smiles as the cab drives off, becoming a moving shadow the further it got. The walk is slow, as Davey's gaze is at the grand building before veering a little to the left, avoiding the main doors. He does reach his door, locked as expected. He reaches his had in the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a bobby pin, taking the lock in hand before inserting the make shift key into the lock. Davey struggles for a minute or two before...
Click...
Davey: Fantastic.
Davey takes a deep breath before unraveling the chains around the door handles, pushing one open disappearing inside the room. The door closes behind him, with the engraved words ''Hall of Fame'' emblazoned on the door. The inside looks like it has been left undisturbed for several months. Davey walks down the aisle passing portraits of nCw Hall of Famers in wooden frames. Several inches of dust have accumulated on the edges of the frames. Davey keeps walking, passing Alex Jones's and Curtis Kanyon's picture, he stops about midway down the aisle, turning to his right looking up at the certain picture. He stays quiet, almost like he is honoring the person. After a minute he moves on from the picture, which was that of Dave Holland. With each passing picture his head seems to lower until he reaches the end of the aisle, looking up at the one portrait he no doubt came to see.
Davey: Can you hear them?
He asks as his head raises, looking at the picture of IWF Imperial Champion, his worst enemy Spike Kane.
Davey: All the people that you have stabbed in the back, using them as stepping stones to further your own career...can you hear them? They are screaming for justice, wanting the man who wronged them to be brought down. All the careers that could of been and the ones that never were. I can hear them, but that's because I was one of them. I have been in Hell, the crushing loneliness where you can not even hear yourself think because of the deafening silence. On the brink of death with no one around, the thought of just giving up all because of you. You like to fancy yourself a God, well your not a God you are just a parasite. Feeding on those around you, from your family to me, and now your Empire. ...My Empire...
Well no more, I am no longer going to be a numbered victim in your long list of casualties, because I know who I am. I am the voice of your victims, the judgment that every false God must face! I am your past that has caught up with you, I am the one who should not be. I am the survivor of your Hell. I'm an atheist...I'm a genius...I am Davey Ortega and I am the predator of the Kane.
Davey stands in place, his eyes locked on the illustrated eyes of Spike Kane. The intense silence is broke, by the familiar cackle that has haunted Davey for weeks. Only this time his neck snaps to the right, looking behind him before turning around. This time he heard clear as day where the laughter was coming from. No more bookcase, he thought as he moved down the walk way, stopping to look back at Spike's picture, barely visible but he could still see it.
Davey: And I will prove that I am better than you.
His eyes turn to the portrait he was now in front of
Davey: And you.
Davey steps towards his own likeness forever immortalized, placing both hands on the frame taking the picture down from the wall, propping it up against the wall. He kicks at the glass two times before it gives, shattering into tiny sharp knives. He reaches in with his bad hand grabbing the picture, tearing it out and leaving the broken case. He walks out of the Hall, his own induction in hand as the sun rises. Only the scene was different, he arrived alone but their were three people with a familiar limousine on the property now.
Cass: DAVEY!
Davey walks up to them, not to sure why they are here or who the third person was.
Cass: Thank God.
Davey: How did you know where I was?
Jason walks up to him, showing him the journal.
Davey: I'm regretting giving you that. So who is this?
Jason: The grounds keeper.
Davey: Kelly actually pays you to keep up maintenance?
Grounds Keeper: No, IWF does. And THAT is IWF property.
Davey looks down at the picture he has, then looks back at the grounds keeper.
Davey: Well tell Simon that if he wants it back, it will be hanging above my desk in my office.
Davey walks passed the grounds keeper opening the door to the limo getting in, and shutting the door. Cass and Jason awkwardly get into the limo as well before it backs up, turns around and drives off leaving the poor grounds keeper unaware to make of what just happened.
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Davey: AHHHHHHHHHH! THAT HURTS!!!
Cass: Well if you hadn't acted like a maniac and punched the wall a few times we wouldn't be here.
Davey goes to answer, but stops knowing she is right.
Davey: You get one of those...
Cass flashes a cheesy smile before she finishes cleaning his wounds, slapping on a fresh bandage on it. She gets up and begins clearing the table of the medical supplies as Davey extends his fingers, slowly balling them up to make a fist. He grimaces in pain the first few times before adapting to the sensation. He seems relived to know he can still make a fist with that hand. He slowly gets up, his eyes glancing around the room before walking to the window to view the outside world. He always had an affinity for looking out the world from his pedestal tower. A lingering lesson from his Uncle perhaps? The time for pondering recent events was cut short as soon as it began. The door opens with Jason entering the room, hand to his ear talking on his phone.
Jason: Please stop yelling...I'll tell him.
Jason pulls the device from his ear and looks over at Davey, who has a raised eyebrow and curious expression.
Jason: It's someone from the arena. They want you to pay for the damages you caused in the locker room.
The expression suddenly changed from curious to annoyance. His fingers quiver as he recalls the shooting pain every punch inflicted. He slowly walks towards Jason, takes the cell from his hand and holds it a foot from his face.
Davey: BILL SIMON DE MONTFORT, ASSHOLES!!!
Davey ends the call, tossing it the phone Jason and he catches it, without a single word or movement. Jason's eyes are wide, he was not expecting such a volatile reaction from Davey.
Jason: ...How's your hand?
Davey looks annoyed at the question.
Davey: Good enough to hit someone with. Possibly a certain someone who has yet to give me any news on the Maine project. You did your job, yes? Because I'm going to be completely honest with you...and I'm talking to you too Cass. I have not had the best starts to a week, in fact last Monday is going to go down as one of the darkest days in my life. So when I say I am right on the brink of a break down you do not want to be saying you did not do your job. Did you call?
Jason: ...Yes. Though their were some complications. From both the bank and the Real Estate agency. The property you want is about to be foreclosed upon, but the residents are still there and everyone seemed really uneasy about negotiating with me. Almost like they didn't care what the offer was.
Davey: That's called fear, Jason. They didn't want to deal with you because you represent me, and I don't perform shady tactics. I want that property for one reason, to turn it into a very exclusive Spa. I mean this is going to be the Captain Kirk of Spa's. That property has an ideal geographic isolation on two fronts, and a natural hot spring not more that 40 feet from it. I want this property Jason.
Jason: But Davey...it's a convent.
Davey: I know what it is. What? Do you think I go blind into lucrative opportunities? I know what it is, I'm well aware they don't want me to have it, objections based on nothing more but morality.
Jason: Davey...if you kick them out they won't have any where to go. Plus everyone I talked to said that they travel to various places helping people. They do good work Davey...they shouldn't be...
Davey: What? They shouldn't be what? They shouldn't be tossed to the curb because their ''good work'' failed to yield any profit? They should be spared the wrath of basic economics? Why? Because they are women of God? Because if we toss these ''virtuous'' women out in the cold, cruel world they might...what? Adapt? Survive? Abandon the vows they took just to get by? They should look at this as a test of their faith. One I am beginning to suspect you are are about to have...
Jason: I just...I don't know if I can knowingly make Nuns homeless. What if God...
Davey: You are not here for your religious convictions. You are here to help me handle day to day business, and to keep me grounded. So let me return the favor by keeping your two feet on the ground and close to reality. There is only room for one God in this Casino and it is not yours.
Jason stays silent, averting his eyes from his unstable employer. He clasps his hands behind his back and lets out a sigh, slowly raising his head until...
Cass: I'll do it. I'll handle negotiations if, he can cover the interview.
Davey: No. I want him to do it. I want you to go to the convent and convince the Mother Superior to sell, and sell while my offer is so generous. Convince her that this is God's will, or sell the whole Satan Knows Best shtick. I don't care how you do it just get me that property, and Jason...If you are having any thoughts about intentionally botching this acquisition I am going to ruin your fun, because Cass will be escorting you.
Cass: What? I have the interview all set up! A Girl Has No Name Robbins agreed to come here with an entire crew to do a full on 60 minute style interview. This wasn't an easy thing to get, she was really hesitant about interviewing you.
Davey: Yeah we have a bit of a history, and some more is about to be piled on. I'm going too need you to cancel that interview. Since you will be out in Maine with Jason, and I will be gone myself, there is no reason for her to come along and set up a whole production.
Cass: Where are you going?
Davey: Somewhere I should of gone a long time ago.
Cass: Davey I can't just cancel this. I went as far as giving my word and I never give my word...
Davey: Well congratulations Cass, your word has become less trustworthy than mine. Even I never make promises I can't keep. I said schedule an interview, not put it in stone. It's not my problem you have to explain to IWF why you can't get a green light from your boss for a simple interview. After the events of Sacrifice how could you think a public address would be healthy? I need time for reflection. So you will go to Maine with Jason, and you will cancel that interview.
Davey walks to and opens the door, leaving the apartment and his two newest minions to impress him.
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I forgot the feeling, the feeling of being slapped right across the face. The ultimate disrespect, and you know what's worse? People expect me to just roll with it. They want me to take it on the chin because I am not on Spike Kane's level. That he is so far above me, and everyone else, that they felt the need to reactivate an old nCw contract, bringing in The Awesome One himself. I think we can all be realistic that aside from Steve, no one else really stands out as top contender...
Well, almost no one.
You have to forgive me, this isn't my usual style but Monday night was a very surreal night, and I have to be honest with you Mike I'm not sure what's going to happen next, because you are the one person that stands out to me. I know you do not possess a perfect record when it comes to Spike, or a win at all, but everyone was talking about the last battle you two had. Hell even I was on the edge of my seat, and then you bounced back and won against Rob Diamond, another big name on that mythical level. I can't imagine your jolt when you saw the card and your name was not next to a member of his Empire, or the rising Killian Creed, it was next to a man who you have met before.
Hell imagine my surprise...
This is my shot to overcome my past, to beat back my demons and finally take my first real step towards redemption. You are coming off a big win from a true competitor, and this week I need to realize this dark Cinderella tale with the one thing you needed last week.
Mike I need the win. I am going to go out there knowing that I am considered the underdog, the guy that is being written off because his past seems too dictate his future. I need to prove that the choke artist in me died in the years I spent off the grid, in a drug and alcohol fueled delusion that somehow culminated in a five year absence. That person who choked when it mattered most is gone, all that is left is the need for revenge. I need to make him pay, to suffer, to endure an expiation that will take him beyond his threshold. Though to come anywhere near realizing that fantasy I need to overcome the obstacle in front of me. To be honest I don't think I could of been handed a more appropriate opponent.
You and I have a little history, and surprise surprise, it's not good. The last time you and I had a go it was over some silly little dispute about who dropped the ball when nCw made us tag team for a night. I got pinned, yet you were nowhere in sight to help. How about we just agree to disagree, because it does not matter who lost a trivial tag match a year ago. This is here, now..in IWF and the two of us haven't changed much have we? Mike I want you to know that I respect you, you have never been apologetic for your actions and have always been driven by pursuit of victory. You have been on the cusp of greatness for so long that I have waited for you to bust that glass ceiling...
And waited...and waited...
Did I not mention that I have thought you were the next big thing for over a year now? I'm just thankful that was one of the times I listened to Preston and didn't place a dime on any of your matches with Verona. I guess I really shouldn't bust your chops about it, he is like your Spike Kane. Only had I been face to face with my worst enemy I would of torn into him, regardless if it was in the bosses office. I don't think I could of kept myself as composed as you were, standing there as he talked down to you as if you were nothing but a peasant. A peon that could be replaced at the snap of a finger. That's the difference between you and I...
I would rather rip off the thumb before they could snap.
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We're here. The cab comes to a slow stop, just outside the former corporate offices of nCw. Davey Ortega opens the door stepping outside of the confined automobile. Davey walks to the drivers side window, hunching over to see the cab driver.
Cab driver: You sure this is where you want to go? Place looks locked up and abandoned.
It was true. The old building that once had a bustling life force looks drained, chains secured by locks wrapping the doors closed. Davey smiles before handing the cab driver his fare.
Davey: When one possesses the key of intelligence their is no such things as ''locks.'' I'll let you go home and ponder that.
Davey walks away from the cab, though could hear the word ''jerk'' muttered from the cab driver. Davey just smiles as the cab drives off, becoming a moving shadow the further it got. The walk is slow, as Davey's gaze is at the grand building before veering a little to the left, avoiding the main doors. He does reach his door, locked as expected. He reaches his had in the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a bobby pin, taking the lock in hand before inserting the make shift key into the lock. Davey struggles for a minute or two before...
Click...
Davey: Fantastic.
Davey takes a deep breath before unraveling the chains around the door handles, pushing one open disappearing inside the room. The door closes behind him, with the engraved words ''Hall of Fame'' emblazoned on the door. The inside looks like it has been left undisturbed for several months. Davey walks down the aisle passing portraits of nCw Hall of Famers in wooden frames. Several inches of dust have accumulated on the edges of the frames. Davey keeps walking, passing Alex Jones's and Curtis Kanyon's picture, he stops about midway down the aisle, turning to his right looking up at the certain picture. He stays quiet, almost like he is honoring the person. After a minute he moves on from the picture, which was that of Dave Holland. With each passing picture his head seems to lower until he reaches the end of the aisle, looking up at the one portrait he no doubt came to see.
Davey: Can you hear them?
He asks as his head raises, looking at the picture of IWF Imperial Champion, his worst enemy Spike Kane.
Davey: All the people that you have stabbed in the back, using them as stepping stones to further your own career...can you hear them? They are screaming for justice, wanting the man who wronged them to be brought down. All the careers that could of been and the ones that never were. I can hear them, but that's because I was one of them. I have been in Hell, the crushing loneliness where you can not even hear yourself think because of the deafening silence. On the brink of death with no one around, the thought of just giving up all because of you. You like to fancy yourself a God, well your not a God you are just a parasite. Feeding on those around you, from your family to me, and now your Empire. ...My Empire...
Well no more, I am no longer going to be a numbered victim in your long list of casualties, because I know who I am. I am the voice of your victims, the judgment that every false God must face! I am your past that has caught up with you, I am the one who should not be. I am the survivor of your Hell. I'm an atheist...I'm a genius...I am Davey Ortega and I am the predator of the Kane.
Davey stands in place, his eyes locked on the illustrated eyes of Spike Kane. The intense silence is broke, by the familiar cackle that has haunted Davey for weeks. Only this time his neck snaps to the right, looking behind him before turning around. This time he heard clear as day where the laughter was coming from. No more bookcase, he thought as he moved down the walk way, stopping to look back at Spike's picture, barely visible but he could still see it.
Davey: And I will prove that I am better than you.
His eyes turn to the portrait he was now in front of
Davey: And you.
Davey steps towards his own likeness forever immortalized, placing both hands on the frame taking the picture down from the wall, propping it up against the wall. He kicks at the glass two times before it gives, shattering into tiny sharp knives. He reaches in with his bad hand grabbing the picture, tearing it out and leaving the broken case. He walks out of the Hall, his own induction in hand as the sun rises. Only the scene was different, he arrived alone but their were three people with a familiar limousine on the property now.
Cass: DAVEY!
Davey walks up to them, not to sure why they are here or who the third person was.
Cass: Thank God.
Davey: How did you know where I was?
Jason walks up to him, showing him the journal.
Davey: I'm regretting giving you that. So who is this?
Jason: The grounds keeper.
Davey: Kelly actually pays you to keep up maintenance?
Grounds Keeper: No, IWF does. And THAT is IWF property.
Davey looks down at the picture he has, then looks back at the grounds keeper.
Davey: Well tell Simon that if he wants it back, it will be hanging above my desk in my office.
Davey walks passed the grounds keeper opening the door to the limo getting in, and shutting the door. Cass and Jason awkwardly get into the limo as well before it backs up, turns around and drives off leaving the poor grounds keeper unaware to make of what just happened.
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Well howdy there pardner.