Savage

[Malaki Toala]

{ We re-join our unlikely duo backstage in the IWF medical area as Malaki Toala sits on a table with a medical attendant carefully stitching a large cut above his eye. Malaki sits still, wincing a little as the needle pierces his skin, whilst Joey Leroux paces back and forth full of nervous energy. Malaki looks at his companion and calls out to him. } 

Malaki Toala: Joey… 

{ Joey doesn’t respond, as he continues to pace, lost in a world of his own thoughts. } 

Malaki Toala: Hey, are you listening to me? 

Joey Leroux: I’m… I’m sorry… 

{ Malaki cocks an eyebrow in confusion and looks at Joey. } 

Malaki Toala: What are you talking about? 

Joey Leroux: It’s my fault you’re in this mess… I should have known. 

Malaki Toala: Joey, this isn’t your fault. 

{ Joey shakes his head. } 

Joey Leroux: I appreciate it… but it is. Eternity knew that Eliza and Kayla were my clients and that attacking them would draw your attention away…that little bitch… 

{ Joey punches the wall in frustration. } 

Joey Leroux: She completely punked us! We got tricked by Alice and ran down the fucking rabbit hole. Then that smug bastard Angel got his rocks off… damn it! 

Malaki Toala: Joey! 

Joey Leroux: What!? 

{ Joey looks up at Malaki, breathing rapidly as his agitation becomes more and more readily apparent. } 

Malaki Toala: Will you calm down for a minute? 

Joey Leroux: How can I be calm? This weekend is huge, I need you in the best shape possible and my connections with the girls backfired and affected you. 

Malaki Toala: I’ll be fine. 

{ Joey cocks his head incredulously. } 

Joey Leroux: Look, big guy, I know you like to act like a bad ass, but Angel has left you requiring stiches, it’s hardly the best preparation for a Man of Steel match against the “Beta of Evolution” and Robbo the Clown. 

{ Malaki smiles, wincing a little as his stiches tug. } 

Joey Leroux: What are you smiling at? 

Malaki Toala: Just the way you… look never mind. I will be ok, Joey, I appreciate the concern but it wasn’t you who booked the match, we knew going in that Eternity was unpredictable and only a complete fool would be ignorant of the fact that Blake was going to pounce of the opportunity to kick my whilst I was down. 

Joey Leroux: And what are you going to do about this weekend? We need to get you into fighting shape… 

Malaki Toala: I’ve been through worse, the last thing I need to do is focus on a few scrapes and take my eye off Jake and Rob. Whatever they are, one thing is for sure, they’re both highly capable wrestlers. 

{ Joey shakes his head. } 

Joey Leroux: I still don’t like this… that sneaky Kathleen is going to have something planned, which would be bad enough if you were 100%. I still don’t think she’s forgiven me for tipping Rob Diamond $20 dollars at the restaurant… 

Malaki Toala: Why are you tipping my opponents? 

Joey Leroux: He punched Jake Conway in the face and ruined his soup. Even dancing monkeys deserve a tip occasionally. A banana would have been racially incentive considering… 

{ Malaki’s eyes narrow. } 

Malaki Toala: I swear… if I have to re-educate you in the civil and technological advancements of Samoa again I’m going to give myself more stitches by bashing my head against that wall. 

Joey Leroux: Ok, ok Conan the Barbarian, I get the hint. But the fact remains, Kat Conway isn’t one to forget a slight, she waited seven years to screw over Super Sized Kane, what if she manages to screw you out of your belt? 

{ Malaki pauses, his brows furrowing. } 

Malaki Toala: Then her and Jake will learn a little something about revenge. 

Joey Leroux: Ok now you’re scaring me… you don’t meant cannibalism do you? 

Malaki Toala: You’re thinking of Papua New Guinea… 

{ Malaki suddenly stops himself replying further and stares at Joey. } 

Malaki Toala: Stop treating me like a savage! 

{ Joey throws up his arms as he feigns a mixture of innocence and ignorance as our scene slowly fades to black. } 

Finally, after all the anticipation, the moment has come.

Wait… we’re getting free doughnuts in the canteen now?

What… no? I meant it is finally time for my first defence as the IWF Man of Steel Champion.

Oh… well I guess that’s neat too…

You don’t have the level of enthusiasm I’d expect for this job, do you know that?

{ Malaki shakes his head and continues. }

I promised last month that I would emerge from that cage as the Man of Steel champion, and I fulfilled that guarantee in dominating fashion. Yet, I also made something else very clear, I’m not doing this to just add to a list of title belts I’ve held, this isn’t some transitional reign to spice up my credentials, this is a legitimate campaign to re-instill the respect this division deserves.

And that is where you two gentlemen come in. Two of the biggest names in our business, regardless of what anybody else might think.

So, as logic dictates, I suppose it is appropriate to address you first Rob, considering the fact that you seem to share similar goals as me, namely the reestablishment of this belt as the hottest property in this company beneath the “big prize”. One which places a target on the champions back from the moment they tear it from their opponents grasp, one which every man looking to make a name for himself craves and one which all former champions can look back at with pride.

I have to admit, I never considered that of all of my opponents it’d be you of all people that I’d be agreeing with. Normally agreeing with Rob Diamond involves fat jokes at Spike Kane’s expense and juvenile delinquency, but contrary to popular belief there’s a damn sight more to you that you let on.

You’re a lot more than the comic relief.

Here’s the thing Rob, for all your extroverted… quirks, I’ve always been able to see past the insecure displays of faux-confidence and recognise the competitor underneath the public projection. Like it or not, and some people won’t, you were a former NCW World Champion and as much as people are eager these days to call anybody with the top belt a fluke, we both know you were anything but. To be on top of the mountain there has to be more to you than a few dick jokes and colourful ramblings.

Somewhere, under all that pomp, is a legitimate competitor just waiting to get out.

We’ve seen shades of it this week, but ultimately for all of your desire to take this belt from me and continue the legacy I want to cement and get this back to where it belongs, you have something that I don’t.

A distraction / A grip with reality.

{ Malaki looks at Joey and shakes his head. }

As much as I find Jake to be a contemptible low life intent on playing games with his wife in some glorified Date Night, the fact is, I honestly couldn’t give a flying fuck which one of you two I make tap or leave laying on their back wondering where they are. It’s inconsequential to me, all that matters is that I walk out the Man of Steel champion and whether I go through you or whether I go through Conway, it is an irrelevance.

When I step in that ring, everything that came before hand is a moot point.

Whilst I’m not idiotic enough to think that you will outright refuse to exploit any opening I may give you, your tunnel vision towards Conway isn’t going to do you any favours. Far be it from me to prevent an opponent from self-imploding and giving me the edge I need to win, but letting Jake get into your head isn’t going to do you any favours.

Even if I’d really…

Really…

Enjoy watching Jake Conway tap out in the middle of that ring right in front of our beloved and benevolent Commissioner.

Ultimately, I’d rather you focused on one thing, and one thing only. This belt. We both want this division to thrive. We both want people to stand up and take notice. The last thing either of us want is for this match to be overshadowed by the ever increasingly nauseating golden couple and another opportunity for them to flaunt their relationship over the television screen.
This isn’t a plot to try and get you to agree to some sort of pact, far from it.

It’s a wake up call.

I want this match to be the only thing on people’s minds when they walk out of the arena, so do us all a favour Rob, get your head in the game, bring the ability you undoubtedly have and let’s knock this out of the fucking park because I promise you, if you let your focus drop to chase Jake Conway, I’ll take advantage and put you on your back full of nothing but regret.

I suppose that makes a change from the bullshit he’s normally full of.

Seriously? He’s not that bad. You should try socialising with you for a weekend.

That sounds absolutely kick ass.

{ Malaki groans and begins to raise his voice. }

I’ve got give you credit, Jake.

I guess somebody has to.

You have, to a degree, walked away from the rampant cowardice you displayed upon your immediate return and gotten your edge back, albeit it partially at my expense.

Kudos for loaning your balls back from “Commissioner Conway” for the weekend.

I suppose some people will point to the old adage, “be careful what you wish for”, but I don’t buy into that crap. The limp, hollow shell of Jake Conway was never going to facilitate my desire for a genuine challenge. The conniving, devious, bastard on the other hand…

Let’s just say he’s perfect.

You see Jake, whilst other people are content to run you down for your age, your credentials or even for having the audacity to be a happily married man instead of swimming in ring rats, I’ve always respected you as a wrestler. That isn’t to say I like you because quite honestly you’re a tedious prick who is completely devoid of any likable traits, even the affection for your family is toxically nauseating to the point that it loses any resonance with the cold hearted bastards you share the ring with.

No, I don’t like you, but I respect your ability.

Frankly, I’m delighted that you respect yourself enough to unlock that ruthless side in time for our match this weekend, and not just because I got to watch you beat the cocksure arrogance out of Rob Diamond last month. I’ve watched you before, Jake, when you’re too busy hiding behind mind games you’re reserved, you hold back, and if your opponent possesses a modicum of common sense they can exploit that. Yet… when you just let go in there and tap into the monster inside… the one you try so desperately to repress until Kathy yanks your leash…

Well, frankly.

You’re a genuine threat.

Which, I appreciate, isn’t something that I’m meant to admit, after all some would mistake accepting this reality is a sign of weakness, but I disagree. I wanted the vicious, callous, calculating Jake Conway, not because it was a convenient talking point to degrade you for the kicks of a few people watching at home, but because when I step inside that ring I want a challenge. I’m not here for some easy ride to just rack up some artificial number next to my title reign, I’m here to carve out the definitive Man of Steel reign by taking on the absolute best there is to offer.

I want you to try to break me Jake.

I want you to try and teach me whatever twisted lesson it is you have in your head.

I want you to do everything it takes to tear this title away from me.

Maybe not that last part…

Not because I’m a masochist, not because I doubt myself and not because I’m trying to lull you into a false sense of security, but because I want to be tested. I want to leave that ring, win or lose, knowing that I wasn’t cheated, that I wasn’t given a half-hearted effort but that I’ve been in a war and we’ve blown the fucking roof off that arena.

For far too long this belt has been looked down upon as lacklustre right of passage to the main event instead of the endurance testing challenge it should be and it is about damn time that perception changed. So bring that rake dragging, blood spilling, bone crunching attitude with you this week Jake, do everything in your power to knock my words back down my throat and prove to the world that you’re not just Kat Conway’s bitch but a truly accomplished competitor who can put “young” upstarts like me in our place.

Because when I beat you, and I lift this belt over my head Jake, I don’t want there to be any room for excuses. I don’t want to hear that you’re just a washed up icon from a bygone era when we both known you’re athletically sound. I don’t want to hear that you’re just a family man with no real pride in your career as if they are somehow mutually exclusive. Most of all, I don’t want to hear that I just beat up a guy going through the motions.

I want to walk away from this match with my head held high, this belt around my waist and each and every one of our names on people’s lips.

Not Alex Jones’, not Mike Laszlo’s, not Ana Valentine’s or Jessica Reed’s.

But Malaki Toala, Jake Conway and Rob Diamond. The three men who re-defined a division by putting their asses on the line and doing everything it took to be champion and left everything they have inside that ring.