Diamond dogs

[Bryce De Jager]

Hey kids, do you like David Bowie?
Because here it is!

As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent, You asked for the latest party, With your silicone hump, And your ten inch stump, Dressed like a priest you was, Tod Browning's freak you was...

Bryce is shirtless dressed in leather pants and wearing a set of shades as he dances to the music that is a few decades out of style for him, head bopping as he sweeps open teh curtain to a window in the Penthouse flooding your eyes with light and leaving only his shadow seared into your retinas for a few seconds.

Crawling down the alley on your hands and your knees, I'm sure you're not protected for its plain to see, The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees, Hunt you to the ground they will, mannequins with kill appeal

He gets closer to the camera stepping over the couch between himself and the camera as he does so.

I'll keep a friend serene (will they come?)
Oh baby, come unto me (will they come?)
Well, she's come, been and gone.

He’s still dancing, face now in full shot even as the light bleeds around his head like some sort of halo before he grooves off camera.


Come out of the garden, baby
You'll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs

Sudden silence as the music is turned off and the scraping of a chair is heard as he pulls it back first even as the windows seem to finally react to the sun and dampen the light as they tint against it an artificial sunset played in real time as Bryce sits facing the camera, arms folded and giving that slightly self assured smirk.

“So boys, after I put TJ to bed It has come down the wire I get to gamble on a 50/50 of whose face I’m stamping a brand name into this week, I figure I’ll share the love between a pair of IWF mainstays, but who do I look at first? Rob ‘Catchphrase’ Diamond? Or Nick ‘Mild Peril’?”

He shook his head as he seems to weigh his options.

“Mild Peril, Catchphrase, choices.”

He seems to bounce his head as if deciding before he digs into his pockets and sighs.

“Gimme a ‘mo, we’ll make this fair.”

He looks at the camera man.

“Alright Moffie, I need some change c’mon!”

The camerawork gets a little wonky as Byrce watches impassively, almost amused before an unknown hand passes a coin to Bryce who sneers again.

“Heads? Peril tails? ‘Phrase. We all know how much ‘Phrase loves tail.”

He tosses the coin, catches it and takes a second to reveal.

Heads.

“Peril, mate lucky you fate has cast you as dramatis personae in an exciting new venture of gettin’ your shit stomped in on live Television. Pardon? You’ve done that already? Lost count? I’m offended Peril, what am I just another notch on your proverbial bedpost? You don’t fancy being passed between me and ‘Phrase like a red cup at spring break?”

He manages a soft somewhat mocking tutting as he waggles a finger and sighs.

“You remind me of this lad I knew back in Joberg, loved the soft ground he did, wallowed in it, took very imagine bump and bruise even broke his shin and had to sit out and never gave up the tenacity of a honey badger that kid.”

He muses on it and the memory of this person dances in his eyes as he sighed.

“That’s you Peril, honey badger heart you fight and fight and lose and lose and sure you scrape wins you're lucky but every time you rise a little high somebody boops yer snoot and you remain and that’s nothin' against yer skill you are good but it’s like I said with TJ.”

He gives a little shrug, eyes searching the room a moment as emotions seem to flicker off his face as he considers his next words.

“Some folk are just victims, like you TJ, heck the list of victims in this company is worryingly high I didn't know Verona was running a halfway house, maybe I should invest, charity is a good tax write off.”

A long, slow sigh, chest heaving and rising as he makes theater of the breath.

“Of course we complicate the matter don;t we? Unbeaten as I am I stand to lose by never having my shoulders touch the floor, never hitting the mat I stand right now unbeaten in singles competition and all that might get a hiccup because I’m in a Man sandwich and not the fun kick, Nick is the meat…let's talk about the slice that sits on the opposite end huh?”

He makes a point of turning the coin over to tails, nice and slow eyes staring into the camera as he plays the moment for every piece of drama.

“The court jester and hard man himself, one of the many living legends of the company still lurking in the hallways looking to ‘influence’ the younger generation, what brought you back this time? Run out of coke ‘Phrase? Lawsuit pending? Want to steal Dean Harper and blow him into something resembling rehabilitated? News flash ‘Phrase there’s only one solution for a man like Harper, and it comes with two barrels and you use ‘m both.”

He claps his hands, eager to throw himself into the next few moments.

“But enough flirtin’ lets talk the good stuff lets talk you , mean and Peril under the Arizona sun where the sun will go down and the lights will go up and only one of us gets to walk away with a shiny win and a pip on a radar, hm?”

He straightens up in the seat refolding his arms to lean his chin on them.

“We’re in a rare moment here ‘Phrase, you aren’t the man you once were but you're still an animal, still the old badass like Logan Sky with more cocaine.”

“I can’t realistically take my eyes off either of you so I think it would be fair to say that the best statement I could make when Sacrifice comes..”

Another lick of his lips and huffs a slight breath.

“ …Would be to feed you both to the story. That’s the only real play I have. Isn't it ‘Phrase? Drown you in the violence we love so much. Steal your breath with a plastic bag until you’re gawping like a carnival goldfish in the sun. You’re no cardboard cutout…I recognise my own kind.”

He titled his head, eyes once more searching the room and then back to the camera.

“Yeah you’re gonna need work ‘Phrase We might even need to bring some toys out for you, I think you’d like that, a little lubrication and red ,red, red on the canvas. Make the ring like a Jackson Pollock by the time we’re done right?”

He closes his eyes and imagines the scene in his mind's eye: a scream of horror from the crowd as he stands on the ramp preparing to head back down after what was just done.

Bryce held the bag of tacks over his head over the two fallen. Showers of metal and pain raining over himself and the others like a glittering shower of stars as he reveled in being able to feel. The hunger and excitement grew and the fires started burning.

“Maybe not, maybe we’ll keep all this above board which would be a shame Peril needs to live up to his promises and well I don’t just fall on my knees at a request ‘Phrase. The pair of you belong on the floor baking under the Phoenix sub as I move on to whatever the boys in the back have got in mind.”

He stretched in the seat and stood up to push the chair with a foot off camera nodding slowly.

“Least that’s the goal, Execution is never easy, but this is my table, my page…The horror story that I write, and you’re all just passengers in it, meat for the feast, wine for the party.”

He manages to chuckle to himself and using a set of finger guns gestures into a crotch chop.

“Need I say more lads? Let’s have a party, let's shut out the lights and let the hunt..begin.”

Fade out.

---

It was a late night and the boys had decided tonight was poker night. Naturally he accepted and sat in the small room as they laid bets and talked shit, Crypto, stocks and all the mind numbingly boring crap these guys talked about.


His mind drifted even as he played on autopilot. He knew their tells, their habits, fold here, check there, bluff, bluff more and walk away richer better than poorer. But not so rich they won’t come back next week.

Of course none of them played for anything so poultry as Money, in these halls, favors and time was king, connections networks.

And this time Bryce had his eyes on something new, interesting; shipping, stock options, A good lawyer Phoenix was an untapped mine of influence and all it needed was the right push and Jimmy’s charity work with the Senator was just what he needed.

It wasn't all that different from the Soft Ground, you just had to find the right weakness and push.

Jimmy was a girl, lose a hand, promise an introduction to that club guy you know in Vegas, smile like you didn’t want to give it away.

Try not to imagine what the sound of his shoulder coming out of his socket would sound like as muscle and tendon barely held on, it becomes a wet sound after the slight snap.

Hurts like hell.

Now came the master play, win the interest back, lay that full house you’ve been building via card counting and memory palace, smile as you lock eyes with Jimmy, let him know it’s him you want as you pull the marker across and the board gets a write up, you walk out onto the balcony and Jimmy lights a cigarette.

It’s all semantics at that point, a handshake and the knowledge that whilst he was ‘dancing’ the night away with some £7000 a night escort or two, Bryce would be getting up to some real good and making actual use of the time that would be given to him.

Making it his asset instead of Jimmy’s slowly, surely making it -his- time, his position.

And Jimmy would slowly lose it , not even noticing the loss on the board and he’d only have himself to blame.

Some would call it diabolical, but to Bryce it was just how the real game was played.

And you played to win.