Legacy

[Malaki Toala]

{ Our scene re-opens back in the lengthy queue in Mexico City where we left out intrepid heroes, complete with the rather awkward half disrobed scenario we left them in. Joey continues to stare at Malaki as he holds his shirt up to reveal a long surgical scare down his right hand side and across his stomach. Malaki looks at him perplexed. } 

Malaki Toala: What is that? 

Joey Leroux: Oh this little thing, it’s just the scar I got filming Jaws. You know, that animatronic shark is just a legend, we actually used real Great Whites.  

{ Joey rolls his eyes. } 

Joey Leroux: What does it look like genius. It’s a surgical scar. 

{ Malaki pauses, surveying the healed wound. } 

Malaki Toala: It’s so big. 

Joey Leroux: Whoa, easy there sailor. Did this conversation take a rapid diversion into a homoerotic adult movie? 

Malaki Toala: Grow up, Joey.  

{ Joey lowers his shirt, tucking it carefully back into the waistline of his suit trousers. } 

Malaki Toala: You’ve never mentioned you had surgery. 

Joey Leroux: I wasn’t aware my medical history had any bearing on our professional relationship considering it’s you who gets paid to get your ass kicked on a weekly basis. 

Malaki Toala: Hilarious. You’re diverting again. What the hell happened to you? 

{ Joey sighs, pausing momentarily before continuing. } 

Joey Leroux: Chronic renal disease happened. 

Malaki Toala: Chronic whatnow? 

Joey Leroux: You know you’re making it really hard for me not to make a comment about the state of education in Samoa… 

{ Malaki looks at Joey sternal who raises his hands in defeat. } 

Joey Leroux: Ok fine… long and short of it, it’s a pain in the arse, almost quite literally and it’s not something you cure with a few paracetamol and a magic sponge. Seven years ago I needed a kidney transplant and, through dumb luck, I was blessed enough to get one before I went the way of the dinosaurs. 

Malaki Toala: What… that analogy doesn’t even work. 

Joey Leroux: Shut up! Do you want to hear this or not? 

{ Malaki nods, opting to remain silent. } 

Joey Leroux: Through some sort of sheer insanity my mother volunteered to donate one of hers to save my life. My mother gave me her kidney and in return the doctors snipped a vein they shouldn’t have and gave me an empty world when I woke up. 

Malaki Toala: Shit… 

{ Malaki sits quietly for a moment, trying his best to muster a response. Joey shakes his head and raises his hand. } 

Joey Leroux: Spare me your pity. 

Malaki Toala: I don’t pity you, Joey. 

Joey Leroux: Then you’d be one of the first. If people don’t pity me, they loath me. You wanted to know why Simon despises me? Because he blames me for her death, my dear old Dad went from rushing me to a private hospital to save my life to loathing me for somebody else’s mistake. 

{ Joey’s brows furrow has his voice raises, tinged with anger. } 

Joey Leroux: That stupid sanctimonious prick stood at the end of my hospital bed and lectured me on how selfish I was for risking her life like that and told me he would never forgive me before anybody even bothered to break the news to me. 

{ Joey shakes his head. } 

Joey Leroux: That was the day I swore I would sever any connections with him and the rest of the clan of de Montforts. The moment I could walk out of that ward I went down to the Registry Office and changed my name from Joseph de Montfort to Joey Leroux, took my share of my inheritance from my mother and disappeared into a yearlong bender. 

Malaki Toala: Didn’t your family ever try to track you down? 

{ Joey snorts, laughing indignantly. } 

Joey Leroux: Did they fuck, and even if they did I’d made sure I hid well enough. I just wanted to drink myself into oblivion and insignificance. 

Malaki Toala: Was that really wise, all things considered? 

Joey Leroux: Of course not, but who reacts “wisely” to being indirectly involved in the death of the only person in life who ever truly loved them? Yet… that was what saved me in the end. I was sat in a bar staring into a glass of vodka and it dawned on me, I’d spent so long drowning my sorrows at losing my mother when the truth was, a part of her was always with me. Literally. She gave me her kidney to give me a second chance, and there I was sitting on my ass eroding the only thing left of her in this world because I felt sorry for myself. 

{ Joey shakes his head again, laughing to himself. } 

Joey Leroux: I was a fucking idiot, and every day I am thankful I woke up and realised it before I proved that wrinkly old bastard right. I promised I’d prove, every day, that he was wrong, I did deserve my mother’s sacrifice. Although he’s done everything in his power since I got into sports managements to see it go down the shitter, thankfully I found you after all the numerous cash sinkholes I invested in. 

Malaki Toala: You realise you just bared your soul to another human being don’t you? 

{ Joey pauses for a moment, turning to look at Malaki. He blinks before suddenly shuddering. } 

Joey Leroux: Fuck. Now you’ll think I have emotions or something. 

Malaki Toala: No, don’t worry, I still know you’re an asshole. Now I just know why. 

Joey Leroux: Remind me never to bare my soul to you ever again. This touchie feelie crap doesn’t work if you just insult me, you’re meant to comfort me or something. Give me a rousing speech about how I need to “go girl” or something. 

Malaki Toala: Yeah, heaven forbid I am under the mistaken impression you’re human and treat you like one. 

{ Suddenly Joey throws an arm forward, pushing down hard on the car horn at a man standing in front of his car arguing with another. Leroux rolls down the window and leans his head out. } 

Joey Leroux: Hey, Pablo! If you haven’t got a sponge and a screen wiper get away from the car. 

{ Suddenly the two men, previously locked in a heated discussion turn their heads and shoot daggers towards Joey who slowly pulls his head back inside the vehicle. He reaches across and shakes Malaki by the shoulder nervously. } 

Joey Leroux: Hey… big guy. You know how I promised to sort out some sparring practice for you after we collected your mother. Turns out I may have mixed that schedule up… 

{ Malaki looks up as the two men approach the vehicle, shouting loudly in Spanish as our scene slowly fades to black. } 

Oh yeah baby, it’s show time.

It’s been a long road but we’ve finally arrived.

An opportunity to prove to the world that my client, the undisputed Heir to the Throne 2015, the one and only IWF Gladiator and two time champion is ready to take his place back in the big time.

An opportunity to finally achieve some redemption.

A chance to finally get that sweet ass Imperial bonus in my bank account again.

{ Malaki looks at Joey. }

What? I’m just being practical. Somebody has to spend your money considering your cheap ass is content with three star motels. Live a little!

What do you mean spend my money?

Erm… so, Renee Pleasant? He’s kind of an asshole isn’t he? He looks like a genetic splice between Big Foot and Bruce Jenner gone horribly wrong. What does Amber see in him? I mean besides blurred vision, the smell of chlorine and the back of this van…

Nice try. We’ll talk about your invasion of my financial privacy later.

Fuck.

It’s been a long road for me, one which I have walked down with no sense of entitlement or over-inflated “destiny”. I was determined to prove myself the right way, to reclaim my opportunity at the top of the food chain by going through a baptism of fire to show the world that this wasn’t just another false dawn in the career of Malaki Toala, but a rebirth. I promised that I would do everything that it took to become the Heir to the Throne and, despite Jack Gaither’s best efforts I made sure that it was me who earned to right to walk down that ramp this weekend and face Renee Pleasant.

Kudos by the way Jack, you gave me a fight, you just came up short in the end.

Are you really going to compliment that scrub?

You do realise it’s perfectly possible to compliment other people, right? Jack put up one hell of a fight, I don’t need to paint myself in gold and glorify myself at his expense to justify my victory. You’re only as strong as your competition.

Ok, ok… whatever you say pussywillow.

Listen, Renee, I’ll make this part of my contractually obligated speech short and sweet. I couldn’t give anything approaching a fuck about why you’re public enemy number one amongst the upper echelons of the management of this company, I really don’t care what you’ve done and who you’ve done it to. I have never and will never care about the personal qualities of the men sharing a ring with me, only what they can do inside of it.

And make no mistake, you’re one dangerous bastard in between those ropes.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past year, you’d have to be a complete moron to question your ability as a professional wrestler. You may not be the smartest, you may not be the quickest, but you sure as hell are one of the most ruthless SOB’s in the business today. I have watched you dissect some of the very best this profession has ever had to offer, and you’ve done it with a second’s hesitation.

You have broken men who once held the weight of professional wrestling on their shoulders without even breaking a sweat.

I am under no illusions that this weekend, I am going to be in for the fight of my life. This isn’t going to be a picnic, you are I are going to trade blows and regardless of the result I am damn sure that I am going to be feeling it for weeks to come. You hit hard and you take no prisoners, you have cut a ruthless swathe through this roster and this weekend I have no doubt you’re planning on continuing that trend by re-arranging my face.

The question is Renee, do you realise what you’ve gotten yourself in for?

You might be one tough bastard, but the guy standing opposite you isn’t just some hopeful pushover either. You’re going to be in for a hard hitting, blood spilling, brawl but part of me feels that deep down, that is what you’re looking forward to the most.

But what am I looking forward to? What is motivating me besides the very obvious prize on offer?

A priceless opportunity, something money and belts cannot buy.

This weekend I am going to do everything in my power to vanquish my demons, Renee, and once and for all silence all of the doubters who have congregated to predict that I will be just another victim on your impressive résumé. This is my moment to prove to everybody that I deserve to share the same limelight as men like you, my moment to show everybody that I’m more than just a stop gap in a long line of dominant icons and historic champions.

I’ve been a footnote in the career of Angel Blake and the reign of Jake Conway.

I have no intention of being a fact in a pop quiz about yours too.

I am going to walk down to that ring at Legacy and keep on fighting with every ounce of my soul and believe me when I say this, however willing you think you may be, you’re going to have to put my ass in the ground because for as long as I can draw breath I am going to keep on coming back for more. You’re going to have to do more this week to keep that belt around your waist than you ever had to do to gain it.

I’m going to make all of the shit Verona has pulled to prevent you from being King of the Mountain feel like a walk in the park.

Because, Renee, when it’s all said and done, Legacy isn’t just a fancy pay-per-view title to sell a few tickets, it’s the one thing that motivates every single one of us in this business when we wake up on a morning and haunts us when we can’t get to sleep at night. That nagging question in the back of our minds which, no matter how hard we try, we can’t silence until the day we either willingly walk away or have a doctor make that decision for us.

What will my legacy be?

Will I be remembered as an icon in this business whose influence revolutionised professional wrestling, for better or worse? Will people rush to place my name in the myriad of “top tens” that spring up across the internet on a slow news day? Will my name be the one on the lips of all the young men and women walking through those doors into the training centre we all started in?

Or will we simply be another name in a long list of people who has broken their body for the entertainment of millions who barely registers a blip in a vast ocean of talent.

Will we be left in crippling agony for the rest of our lives for nothing but a handful of magic beans, a fistful of broken dreams and an empty glass of remorse?

Will we be nothing more than an almost ran who never truly mattered?

Every single one of us wrestle with this each day of our lives, even if we don’t care to admit it.

No matter what we all say in front of the camera, we got into this business to make an impact and leave a footprint when we finally bow out that cannot be erased. We may try to hide it with bravado, we may even try to deny it an attempt to appeal to whatever demographic we want to at the time, but deep down every single one of us what to leave a lasting impact on this business.

Each one of us wants to secure our legacy.

When you and I meet this weekend, Renee, only one of us will be in the position to truly secure our immediate legacy. The man who walks out with that belt will be the one who puts his name in the record book, either you will continue you reign or I will put an end to it and become the first ever two time Imperial champion.

Yet what is much more important is the platform that victory will provide.

Whoever wins will be readily placed to take that championship and define their entire career with it. They will stand at the head of the food chain as a new era in professional wrestling dawns as IWF re-brands itself under whatever guise the marketing department has cooked up. They will be the face of a new dawn, a permanent part of this company’s history.

I will pull no punches, I have every intention of making sure it is my smile plastered over the cheap plastic crap we flog at arenas. My ass sitting on talk show couches with the Imperial championship draped over my shoulder representing us to the world. My foot firmly pressed down into the larynxes of any man who has the balls to step up and test themselves on the biggest stage of all.

I am going to build my legacy as an icon of professional wrestling.

Once and for all.