Post by bad guy™ on Apr 30, 2016 1:18:40 GMT -5
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3-21-2016: The Scarlett Letter
30 Days Until The Death of Drakz
Samael: F*cking terrible idea, Will. This isn’t going to be awkward in the slightest.
Will: Sarcasm duly noted. Somehow, I think you’ll manage. I’ll meet you after.
Samael: You’d better. I need a ride home.
Samael presses the side of his Bluetooth, followed by disengaging the clutch, switching to fourth gear, rolling the throttle and slowly releases the clutch entirely, the Harley between his legs picking up considerable speed.
Now barreling down I-90, Samael is caught with a sudden wave of emotion.
This is really happening. Fulfilment, just as he had promised. Well, the first of three promises he agreed to, albeit he’s now regretting the decision.
Believe this, driving from western Pennsylvania all the way down to Tempe, Arizona on an old Harley-Davidson was not something that Samael had on his bucket list. For starters, these things cannot go for more than a few hours without needing a fill up. Do you seriously understand how impossible that is considering he rode through the middle of f*cking Kansas? Now, we’re not talking Topeka. Or Wichita. Or even Kansas City (the other one). We’re talking Eudora. The hell is even there, anyways? A statue to Charles Parham? Sorry, but it’s hard to believe Sam would take the time to pass by a statue of the guy who founded Pentecostalism. Call it a hunch.
Samael: I’ll never understand the appeal of the desert life. Oh! Sand! Transplant cities! No water!
Someone’s feeling obnoxious. Maybe he’s just excited someone from his state is finally relevant in pop culture today.
No, not him. Let’s get real. More that guy running for President. Only other thing people care about in Vermont is maple syrup.
Don’t get it twisted. Sam likes Phoenix. He’s enjoyed wrestling here, and can appreciate the mesas and the mountains off in the distance. What’s really bugging Sam is the desolation. He hasn’t passed a care in a few miles now, he has no earthly idea exactly where he’s going and he’s lonely. Can’t really fault him for that. Not even a week ago he was in Pittsburgh with his daughter and best friend having ‘meaning of life’ style discussions and reviewing tactics for a match upcoming with Drakz, though it wasn’t until a few days ago how much more would be at stake. But at that point, he was gone. So now he’s stuck in Tempe, alone, trying to handle business and emotion without cracking. One could call it a glass case of emotion, but you’d have to enjoy Will Farrell to say such.
GPS: Turn. Left.
Samael: Why is it always left?
The GPS didn’t respond. Sam veers off of I-90 and heads into a more residential part of the desert. He scoffs at the thought. He’s left alone to his thoughts again.
Why was this what he chose first? That’s the question he’s found himself asking most during this trek. It’s a surprisingly grueling bike ride despite the flat plains beyond Ohio.
The answer, when you think about it, is simple. Get done the least savory things first so you can take more enjoyment in your future endeavors. Not that, ya know, executing the final will and testament of a close friend is enjoyable…but this trip in the end is ultimately soured by who Sam has to come face to face with.
Let’s just say…it’s been a while.
GPS: Turn right. You will arrive at your destination in 1.3 miles.
Samael: …really?
Sam doesn’t argue further with the computer, flawlessly making the turn and lowering his speed considerably, looking around at the fair amount of modest houses on this street.
Samael: They live…here?
Sam pulls up to a slightly bigger than the rest brick abode and comes to a complete stop. He smacks the phone a couple of times, telling it to get stuff straight. Silence. He shakes his head and unzips his jacket, pulling out a slip of paper with an address written on it. Certainly the place, if we’re trusting Shawn’s late-in-life directions. He kills the engine, popping the kickstand and dismounting. He takes off the helmet, places it on the seat and starts walking down the path towards the house when he hears a loud crash of breaking glass accompanied by a woman’s yell.
Unidentified Woman: GOD DAMMIT PENNY.
Samael: **sighs** Yep…right house.
He knocks on the door. No response. He knocks louder. No response.
Samael: ONE OF YOU F*CKING MCGURKS HAD BETTER OPEN THIS F*CKING DOOR.
Man: You’re the one who invited her to stay with us, Scarlett.
Scarlett: I DIDN’T TELL HER TO BREAK MY DOCTOR WHO LAMP.
Samael: **yelling to the upstairs window, laughing hysterically** AT LEAST IT WASN’T ANOTHER WOMAN IN YOUR BED.
Scarlett: I WOULD HAVE RATHERED.
Sam hangs his head in disbelief. It was times like this he wishes he still had access to Michael Kyzer’s Secret Stash. He looks away from the window when he hears a click in the door. On the other side, the always exquisite Phoenix. The matriarch of WFWF’s royal family.
Samael: **subtle bow** Madame.
Vanessa: Hello, Sam. It’s been a while.
Samael: Hot minute by my count. It’s good to see you.
Vanessa: Wayne’s been more anxious for your visit than Scarlett, and she’s the one you’re here for.
Samael: So Wayne told you the whole reason I’m here?
She nods.
Vanessa: Yep. Scarlett’s not entirely aware of the situation; but he said you wanted it that way.
Samael: Not entirely my decision.
Vanessa: He’s still playing his games.
Samael: From the cradle to the grave. I’m getting a little sick of it, personally. May I?
Vanessa: Of course.
Sam squeezes through the door under Vanessa’s arm and readjusts the brace on his arm. Behind him, the Phoenix closes the door.
Vanessa: Can I take your jacket?
Samael: No…no. I won’t be here long. The car that just pulled up; Shawn’s estate lawyer, and closest friend. That…that’s my ticket out of here. Literally. He’s withholding my plane ticket until I see this through. I’ve a daughter I have to get back to in Pittsburgh.
Man: So you decided to make the move from Ira to Pittsburgh?
Samael: No, David is watching her. He’s agreed to take care of Shawn’s physical…
Down the steps comes the head of WFWF’s royal family. The man who commands respect from all who even remotely get the honor of being in his presence.
Wayne McGurk.
For some reason, ‘Voodoo Who Do’ by Razorback (Wayne’s old theme) kicks off into Sam’s head. Christ, this guy really is WFWF personified. He’s coming down the stair of his own home and he gets his own f*cking theme song in Sam’s head.
THAT is respect in this business, ladies and gentlemen.
Samael: Wayne.
Wayne stands in front of Sam, much taller than he. It’s eerie. Sam and Wayne’s interactions in the WFWF were brief; but just looking at him…he gets it. Sam gets why Shawn took so kindly to Wayne over the years. Before Sam can say anything more, Wayne wraps his arms around Sam’s neck, embracing the man on this arduous journey.
Wayne: **whispering** I’m so sorry, Sam.
Yep. Sam definitely gets it, now. He knows why Shawn sent him here. Wayne releases the hug.
Samael: Thanks.
Wayne: This whole house fell in on itself when Scarlett pulled up Lila’s address that he’d passed. Every single one of us has a happier story to tell thanks to him.
Samael: That’s what I keep getting told by David. I’m just starting to realize it myself.
Wayne: It hit her hard…so you know. You’re not going to realize it just by talking to her. She’s going to be especially reserved with you. Maybe try to make a joke out of it. It’s her coping mechanism.
Samael: Whatever helps her sleep at night, right?
Vanessa: Yep.
Sam had almost forgotten Phoenix was there. She’s retired now too. Perhaps he should be referring to her as Vanessa and not as her X-Men inspired nickname the WFWF faithful gave her during her in ring career.
…nah.
Scarlett: **from upstairs** He in yet?
Wayne: Yeah, come down here.
AND STAY THERE, BITCH…lovely words shouted out by Scarlett, slamming a door; either Penny BEHIND it or her head IN it. When it comes to Scarlett Quinn, you’re playing with house money taking guesses what the hell she’s doing. She reaches the middle of the steps and it causes Sam to take a step back. She looks at him sideways.
Scarlett: What’s up with you?
Samael: You’re looking great.
Scarlett: We’ve been over this, Sam. I’m gay. I just locked my girlfriend in my bedroom. Stop hitting on me.
Samael: And I’m seeing my ex wife. Don’t flatter yourself too much, sweetheart. Last time your head got that big, a mutual friend of ours tried tossing you off of a cage. Nonetheless, doesn’t mean I can’t say what everyone else would be thinking. And making Penny like you again via Stockholm Syndrome…didn’t know that was your style.
Scarlett: Pssssh. Like she ever stopped.
Samael: Well…that’s the impression her Savior friends gave me.
Scarlett: Oh yeah; I forgot you guys were in cahoots no….HEY WHAT WAS THAT LAST BIT?
Sam looks at Wayne.
Samael: Do I REALLY have to do this?
Wayne puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
Wayne: **whispering to Sam** Wherever Shawn wound up, he’s laughing his ass off right now. He left you in a completely screwed position with Scarlett, and not the winning kind.
Did he just…?
Vanessa: Did you just…?
Wayne puts a finger to his lips, motioning Phoenix to shh.
Scarlett: What the hell did you just say to him?
Wayne: Wisdom from one guy to another.
Kinda creepy. Kinda most guys dream.
In regards to Sam, the world will never know.
Scarlett comes down the last of the steps, extending her hand to Sam. He grabs her wrist and hugs her tight.
Samael: He wanted me to make sure that was the first thing you got from him.
Her arms fall to her side.
Scarlett: Were you really there when he…you know…
He releases the hug.
Samael: Yep. Not exactly something I’m going to be able to forget.
Scarlett: I…I can’t imagine.
Vanessa: No one should. At least someone was. He deserved more than that.
Wayne: Ain’t that the truth?
Sam pulls the envelope from his inner jacket pocket.
Samael: No time like the present then, right?
Wayne guides Sam into a living room towards the south of the house, Scarlett and Vanessa following in tow.
Vanessa: Should we come in there with you two?
Scarlett: Yeah, you want me and mum in there?
Sam looks at Wayne.
Samael: You really said nothing other than I was coming, did you?
Wayne shakes his head and smiles.
Wayne: This is your thing.
Scarlett: What are you two on about?
Samael: Scarlett, do you know why I’m here?
Scarlett: Yeah. Shawn left something for my dad.
Wayne chuckles.
Scarlett: What’s funny?
Samael: It’s not for Wayne.
Sam hands over the envelope.
Samael: It’s addressed to you, Scarlett.
The girl snatches the envelope from the hands of Samael, staring at the addressee and looking up at Sam, back at the envelope then to her dad.
Scarlett: You know about this?
Wayne: Yes.
Vanessa: I’ll ask again. You want us in there?
Scarlett stares a hole through the envelope. She looks up to Samael who gives her a coy smile and a small shrug.
Scarlett: Never thought I’d find myself locked in a room alone with a straight guy.
Samael: Still the joker. Shall we?
Sam enters the room, Scarlett looking at her parents, closing the door behind her. Sam perches himself against the wall, lowering his head and closing his eyes as Scarlett plants herself on the couch, ripping open the envelope.
Scarlett: You know what’s in here?
Samael: Not a f*ckin’ clue, chica. I just know I was sent here for some reason. Well, I know one reason. But the contents of the envelope…not a clue.
She pulls out a legal tablet sheet of paper from within the envelope.
Scarlett: A letter...? And there’s something inside it…
Samael: That’s where I come in.
Scarlett opens the letter, setting it to the side and unfolding the thick paper and stares blankly at the top.
Scarlett: Certificate of Title. What?
Sam reaches in his pocket and pulls out the keys to the Harley, tossing them across the room into her lap. She knows IMMEDIATELY what those belong to.
Samael: You’ll notice my name is on the title and not his. He fully intended on making sure your fathers bike got to you. He wrote it into his will years ago, one of the few things he didn’t change. In truth, he wrote it before SuperBrawl. But in recent months as his condition deteriorated, he had no way of coming out to Arizona to see you, and knew you weren’t going to come to Pittsburgh to see him. I don’t know what’s exactly in the letter, but I knew about the bike because he had it transferred to my name. I would like to think it was just to make the process of getting it transferred to you easier considering…you know…he can’t exactly sign anything now. But knowing him, that was also to make sure I dragged my sorry ass down here.
Scarlett: What do you mean?
Samael: I wish I knew. When Shawn named me the executor of his estate; believe me I was honored. But I knew there was something else other than trusting a friend. With Shawn, there always was. Before you came down, Vanessa made the comment that he was still up to something even from the grave. The entire drive here I found myself wondering why he has be doing all of this stuff.
Scarlett: This stuff? There’s more?
Samael: Yeah. Luckily, it’s a little more within my comfort zone.
That’s only a half lie.
Scarlett sets the pink slip to the side and picks up the letter left for her. Sam makes his way to the door when Scarlett reaches out to stop him.
Scarlett: Don’t leave me to read this alone.
Sam turns to face the young woman, once an adversary of his and can’t help but smile.
Samael: The Ice Princess has a warm heart after all.
Scarlett: …no…
Samael: We all loved him, Scarlett. And in your darkest hour, he was the one there for you. Like it or not, you’re human. That simple act of being there…being the one to prevent your self destruction…it means as much to you as it would anyone else. And believe me, he was there for a lot of people.
Scarlett: **looking away from Sam into the paper** …shut up…
Samael: You were mighty important to him, Scarlett. You have no idea how highly he thought of you.
Scarlett: THEN WHY THE HELL DID HE F*CKING GO AND DIE THEN?
Samael: Everybody knows that everybody dies. No one knew that better than Shawn.
He sits next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder.
Samael: That doesn’t mean he ever accepted it.
Scarlett pulls her knees to her chest and leans back, debating whether to smile or cry.
Samael: Putting off reading it doesn’t mean you’re going to get away with not. Not while I’m here, anyways.
She simply smiles.
Scarlett: You’re not as dumb when you’re not wearing that bushido getup.
Samael: Read.
Scarlett: OK! …ok…
Scarlett clears her throat and slowly reads the letter aloud.
Scarlett: Dearest Princess…oh God, Shawn. Heh. Dearest Princess Scarlett. Sam really came through for me. Assuming you’re reading this, he’s done myself and the McGurk family a great service today. By now you’ve likely seen the title to my Harley. In truth, it was never mine; but you knew that. I’d like to think you still have some childhood memories stored in that thick skull of yours of Wayne taking you around the side streets of Tempe. I remember the day your father actually handed the keys to me…I couldn’t really believe it. It was, obviously, a gift. But did he ever tell you why? Wayne’s probably got stock in Harleys. He owns so many. And that bike in particular, anyone with a pulse is capable of recognizing it as the one he rode to the ring night in and night out during his tenure with the WFWF. So why? Scarlett, it was because of you.
She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to hold back any tears.
Scarlett: I had come to Tempe to ask Wayne for his assistance. I…I wasn’t confident all of those years ago. The man who once stood in opposition of you, the one you stood up to blindly but bravely, couldn’t think of a way to get under Thunder’s skin for SuperBrawl. So how do you get under the skin of one of the most callous individuals known to man? You rip open old wounds, of course. You’re a child of professional wrestling. You’re the first second generation wrestler to ever step into a WFWF ring, and if we’re lucky, the last of our daughters to attempt this garbage business…
Sam hangs his head, knowing that was a clear shot at him even in Scarlett’s letter.
Scarlett: …please forgive me for my sexist remark there. We both know my take on your involvement with the WFWF…please don’t spit on my grave. Wayne had always been my closest friend and ally in WFWF. Your father was my confidant when no one else would listen to me. This, coming after my brother and me had humiliated him, Thunder, Burton, Vanessa and the rest of the Axis lot for years. He believed in my ability. He had grown to dislike the stranglehold with which Thunder was using to control the WFWF. But he still regarded Thunder as a friend to. And Wayne…he was no innocent either. Wayne’s enshrined in the Hall of Fame with myself and so many others…but the match he went out on…not without its controversy.
Scarlett looks at Sam.
Scarlett: He fought mom, right?
Samael: Sanctioned domestic violence. Gotta love WFWF. They put themselves in that spot, but the powers that were capitalized on the opportunity to stick it to your father.
Scarlett: And now to you and Josh.
Samael: Same sh*t, different diaper.
That little line brings a smile to her face as she goes back to the letter.
Scarlett: As a result, Wayne didn’t want to step foot in a WFWF ring again. He would be stepping between friends, and he would be stepping into a hornets nest…things you didn’t need to see. But he saw logic in my plan to oust Thunder, and handed me the keys. Sort of anticlimactic but your father’s nothing if not straightforward. I’m the storyteller in this life. He didn’t protest to you becoming a wrestler, because it was just too in your blood. The child of wrestling’s first family, it wrote itself. And Trace, as you’ve well since become aware used your desire to one up your father’s legacy and made sure you were given all the opportunity in the world. At the time you were barely nineteen, so you just saw it as an opportunity to step out of daddy’s shadow. This was Trace’s chance to sink the McGurk family, the only group more revered and feared than he. After you won the WFWF Championship from The Jew, your father was getting antsy. He’s been champion. He knows the toxicity that comes with having that title around the waist and he knew what Trace was up to. But what little girl listens to their father when reason needs to prevail over desire? Wayne…he was ready to sell his soul to Demon for a contract with the condition that he could have a match against you to take the burden from you. I couldn’t allow him to do that. I’ve already seen one father lose his daughter due to his reckless actions, Wayne would not be the next while I was still breathing. I was already dying anyways; what difference would some soul destroying matches with the girl I watched grow up in front of me, who called me uncle, make? The best part is that it worked! You had to go through a few fires to get the point…but you did. And I got to play the hero one last time, taking the title away from Trace Demon and putting you out of the WFWF; the place where you belong more than anyone but literally over my dead body would you be back there. That’s why I asked Sam to return the bike. I took something from you that you held precious…but it was killing you. I allowed it to consume me instead. Consider this my repayment in full for everything your father did for me over the last ten years, and one step closer, for you, towards the future. You and Penny…you two lovebirds can really ride off into the sunset now on one, honestly, kick ass momento from your father by way of me. Use it as a reminder that this all started over a gift…but your protection was always the forefront motive for Wayne and myself. Today’s the day you’re no longer the princess. You’re finally the Queen. Now go be a better man than Sam, Wayne or myself ever could have imagined.
Scarlett folds the letter back up, sobbing. Sam pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her and allowing her to get her emotions out. He does his best to console her, but he’s honestly just as much a wreck as her.
And it’s at that moment, after listening to the letter and consoling Scarlett that it hits Sam like a sack of bricks. He gets it. He gets why Shawn asked him to do this, regarding Scarlett.
Sam kisses her forehead. The door opens up and Wayne comes in.
Wayne: I heard crying. Was hoping she hadn’t killed you and was losing it.
Scarlett shoots daggers at Wayne.
Scarlett: SHUT UP DAD.
Wayne: Hey, you locked Penny in a bedroom because she broke a lamp. Couldn’t imagine what you’d do to someone who broke your heart.
Scarlett: It wasn’t heartbreaking though, that’s the thing.
She pulls herself away from Sam and stands up, toe to toe with her father.
Scarlett: It was…
Scarlett wraps her arm around her father. Wayne’s somewhat taken aback until he wraps his arms around his daughter, kissing the top of her head and enjoying the embrace. Wayne looks at Samael, who gives him a smile and quietly makes his way out of the door. Scarlett grabs the back of his jacket.
Scarlett: Where the hell do you think you’re going?
Samael: **turning back to her** Home. Time to go home. I’ve got more of…this to do. But somehow I don’t think it’ll be nearly as tough as this.
Scarlett backs away from Wayne and dangles the keys in front of Sam’s face.
Scarlett: A ride, first?
Samael: You’ve been on hundreds of bike rides. And surely Wayne can properly teach you.
Wayne: Something tells me you two need a little more time to talk. And Vanessa’s letting Penny out. If you’re gonna run, this would certainly be the time.
Samael: …run…?
Penny: **from upstairs** WHERE THE F*CK IS SHE?!
Samael: You got your helmet?
Scarlett: Front porch.
Samael: Run.
Scarlett tosses the keys to Samael and takes off for the door, Sam following behind. Penny comes bolting down the stairs, blowing passed Vanessa and almost taking out Wayne when she gets to the living room.
Penny: WHERE.
That was a statement.
Wayne: Out with a guy.
Penny: SAM.
Yet another statement. She’s good at this. Wayne gives a cocky grin as Penny runs to the door. Wayne simply laughs. Vanessa comes down the steps, looking towards Wayne.
Vanessa: Any casualties?
Wayne: Penny’s sanity. But aside; just a whole lot of living.
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I’ve spent the last two years of my life caring for a man on death’s doorstep. It isn’t an easy thing, let me tell you. It takes a special kind of person to be able to see someone so close to you lose the light behind their eyes in one of the most painful ways imaginable. There are a lot of people that I hate, but with the exception of two D’s in particular, I wouldn’t with that suffering on anyone.
So why is it suffering? Two years ago Shawn Malakai was little more than a close coworker, much more skilled at this job than I’d ever seen, but that was it. One day, following his retirement, he asked me to his home in Pittsburgh. I obliged, because we hadn’t really been friends but the respect was there from both sides, and I along with everyone else in the world at that point knew how sick he was. I figured ‘Hey, I’ll humor him.’ Never did I expect a brotherhood to form between us. I still wonder to this day if his goal the whole time was to get me to do his bidding for him since he was no longer physically capable. I wouldn’t be mad in the slightest, being used, because it’s all stuff I would have done anyways…it was just one long…thing.
But the closer we became, the more I realized he had plenty more in store for me than just a few matches at Donnie’s side to help flush out Michael Kyzer. He wanted to help me become more of a man than I ever thought myself capable of being. That was his goal. Why though? Was I just in the right place at the right time? When we first became friends and I signed onto the little army he was building, he didn’t know I had a daughter. F*ck, I didn’t even know I had a daughter. It wasn’t until I recently spoke with Wayne McGurk that I realized why. He saw more than a scar on my face. He saw more than a gimp hand like his. He saw more than the butch samurai wielding a katana. He honestly believed I was a good human being, something many would debate even today.
When I was in Tempe, Wayne made a comment that made me realize what this execution of the will was all about. It was more than handing out estate pieces, and I realized that before I even embarked on part one. If Shawn loved anything, it was a good scavenger hunt; I just was afraid it would wind up being a wild goose chase. It wasn’t. Shawn had ensured I would have a decent conversation with Wayne while presenting Scarlett with the bike. He wanted to make sure I knew that I was the next in line to have incredible wisdom passed on to me. The wisdom started with Wayne McGurk, who in turn took Shawn under his wing and passed on knowledge of life, love and how to deal with the pressures life would certainly throw his way. Shawn had tried and failed numerous times to pass that knowledge onto to someone else; to pay it forward. David Williams. Aaron Ashton. Ace Bennett. Jon O’Deeves. Cameron Stone. Scarlett Quinn. He had tried with all of them and failed, not due to lack of effort but because no one had the common sense to listen to him.
That’s why he chose me. Because he saw me as his final chance to pass on that knowledge. And he succeeded tremendously. Because when I step into that ring with Drakz in a month, I will be armed with more than my own superior physical skills. I’ll be armed with all that is great about my brother in spirit, his mind. And I know I’ll win, because I am alive for the first time in a few weeks now; because I know Shawn’s body may be gone but his life lives on in me. So I salute the dead, and it’s time to lead the final fight.
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4-3-2016: Roots
26 Days Until the Death of Drakz.
If there’s one thing Sam doesn’t like, it’s memories. Who really likes them anyways? Normally if they’re not the greatest moments of your life they wind up being the f*cking saddest parts of our pathetic existences. But what happens when you’re left in a man’s paradise, a giant mansion with more rooms than can be counted on hand; a beautiful estate with architecture that could make Frank Lloyd Wright blush…what happens when that house that’s become more a home for you for a few years now is now nothing but sad memories?
Sam walks down one of the massive corridors in the Malakai mansion, really taking in what’s left; for him anyways. David’s spent the last couple of weeks really gutting the place out for this next monumental task. This is the last time Samael will ever step foot in this house. It’s just not the same. Not that he’ll ever be welcomed here, especially if he can’t keep his temper under control. As much as Samael didn’t want to deal with Scarlett down in Tempe; it wound up being for the better. Healing happened. The minds and hearts of Sam and Quinn were able to get some assurance that, in the end, everything is going to be alright.
This will not be one of those heartwarming moments.
David Williams, Shawn’s brother, comes down the staircase seeking Samael. He finds him looking at a picture of Shawn, Julia and Xana. Probably from around the time she was born.
Samael: He never much talked about her, all things considered.
David: **distracted** What?
Samael: Shawn. He always talked about the bond he and I had as wrestlers, more importantly fathers. But he rarely talked about Xana. I know he came to…well, as close to grips with the situation; the cards he had been dealt. But he never talked about her. Never went out of his way to show her picture. I know Anna would have loved to have talked to him about her.
David: Ah. Yeah. We were far from close, even for brothers. You know the deal. But even when we were, never much conversation was had about my niece. I can understand why, but I would have been pleased to know the life the three of them lived before Xana died.
Samael: Ah well. He’s with her now, right? Finally. He got what he wanted.
David sees the hurt on Sam’s face, walking passed him, a hand put to Ahriman’s back.
David: You’ve been taking this harder than me, and he was my flesh and blood. Close or not, still means something.
Samael: I appreciate all of the work you’ve done these last couple of weeks. I…I know I could not have handled the arrangements. I appreciate you handling that, and keeping an eye on Anna for me and Phoe till she could come down here while I was in Tempe.
David: What are friends for?
Sam gives an odd smile.
Samael: That what we are now? Friends?
David: Hell, why not. I’m not the prick I used to be, and you’re about the only person who can really tell me what my brother was like there in the end. And I’m a fan of what you’re doing with Trevor right now. That kid has IT written all over him. Your mentorship has been something special for him. And if you’re truly leaving after SuperBrawl, at least your song continues on long after you’re gone through him. So yeah, I guess we’re friends.
Doorbell ringing.
Samael: F*ck.
David: Yeah. I’m going upstairs for this. I don’t need to see what you’re about to do. Just…don’t kill him. Ok?
Samael: It makes no f*cking sense to me why Shawn would do this. Leave me in charge of his estate? Sure. I’ll bite. Don’t like it, but it’s a favor for a friend. But why is he doing THIS?
David: He was nothing if not giving, with a hint of mystery. Maybe you’ll learn. Again, assuming you don’t kill him.
Samael: I’m well within my right.
David: Your lawyer probably wouldn’t be able to get twelve people to see it that way.
Sam sighs and nods, walking back down the hallway with David as the doorbell rings again. David rolls his eyes, Sam clearly chewing his tongue in irritation. Williams heads up the grand staircase back to continue clearing out the last of the medical equipment…and to probably see if Shawn had a hidden wall safe. Let’s be honest, David’s a good guy all things considered but he’ll do anything for money. It’s a British thing. Look at how sleazy the guys who are in charge of WFWF are.
Speaking of sleazes, Sam opens the door. Round two.
Samael: Hello, Ace.
Ace: Hi.
Sam looks to Ace’s left, noticing a young woman with him. Someone actually does like this self righteous prick; Will wasn’t wrong. Hrm. Assumed his only friend was his right…yeah not going there.
…and neither would the hand.
Samael: Christine, right? Ace’s fiancé.
Christine: Will mentioned me?
Samael: He did indeed.
Ace: Speaking of, where the hell is he, anyways? The hell are you doing here?
Sam claps his hands together and points at Ace.
Samael: Good question. How about I duck out and go find him? In my dream I probably left him at the bottom of the Mon River, if that’s the case you could always take a swim and look for him.
David: **from upstairs, hearing the heightened voices** SAM.
Ace: **walking in, craning his neck** Is that Williams?
Christine: Tension much?
Samael: That’s certainly one way of putting it.
Christine: Yeah well I don’t like it.
Samael: Well you’re marrying the biggest Drama King known to man…so…
Drama King, not to be confused with DramaQueen, the legendary wrestler. Certainly not what Ace Bennett’s known for.
Ace: Don’t talk to her like that.
Samael: **raising his hands** I mean no disrespect whatsoever to her. That’s left completely to you.
Ace: The f*ck’s your problem?
Samael: Well the last time I was this close to you, you kicked barbed wire into my face trying to take out my best friend and steal what was rightfully his. Forgive me if the salt in the shaker is completely overflown. Or don’t. I frankly don’t give a sh*t.
Ace: Why the hell are you even here? I was told we were to meet Shawn’s estate lawyer. He left something for me, and requested we come down to retrieve it.
Samael: Oh really?
Ace: Sarcasm noted.
Samael: He neglected to tell you why I’m here then?
Ace: Well it’s an innocent mistake. You’re easily forgettable. Ask Drakz. Pretty sure he’s only taking you on because he lost you in the shuffle whilst dismantling the roster and you’re just another name on his list. It took you stealing his spotlight at Show Time for him to remember. How pathetic of you.
Samael: At what point will you hop off The New Epoch’s dick?
Ace: At what point do you stop attaining relevancy and life affirmation and renewal from sucking off the teet of your supposed best friend?
David: **from upstairs** HEY. SHUT THE F*CK UP.
Coming down the stairs, Williams is fit to be tied. He gets in Sam’s face.
David: Show some f*cking decorum. You’ve got a f*cking job to do, so do I and get it the f*ck over with.
Ace: What does he mean job?
David turns to Ace.
David: That’s my brother you’re talking about so you watch your mother*cking mouth. I know that’s hard for you young New York bred pricks, but how about showing a bit of respect for the man who went out of his way to make sure you had as good of a life as possible.
Ace looks down at the floor.
David: That’s what I thought.
Ace: Why are we here, David?
Christine: You two gonna stop trying to measure it in front of us long enough for him to talk?
Ace gets a defensive look on his face, looking to Sam who is grinning.
Samael: She doesn’t have the faintest idea of our history?
Ace: I’ve done the best I could keeping my family out of anything WFWF related.
Samael: Aww man, grandstanding for someone who doesn’t know why I’m doing so isn’t fun at all. Sigh. You have my word, ma’am, that I’ll behave as long as he does.
Ace: Yeah. I suppose I can follow that.
Christine: **looking at David** How old are these two, again?
David: Ego’s one hell of a drug. Now can I close this door? Or do I have to leave it open so the neighborhood can be witness to…well…someone’s murder? I only agreed to witness a transfer. The legal system isn’t keeping me in this country long enough for one of you to go through the ringer.
Sam and Ace take a look at one another, then to David, each nodding.
David: **closes door** Good. Now…let’s get this over with.
Ace: Yeah. What’s this job you supposedly have to do?
Samael: I wasn’t the first choice for this job. You were.
Ace: What?
Samael: Shawn’s executor. He only amended his will about a month before he died.
Ace: So he dropped me out of his will. That’s fine. So why am I here?
David: He dropped you as the executor. Didn’t drop you from the will.
Ace: What would Shawn possibly leave me? Or rather want to?
Samael: That’s what I’ve been asking myself ever since Tempe.
Ace: Tempe…McGurks?
Samael: Yeah. Had to drive out there for Shawn. See, the guy planned out his will before SuperBrawl. He was convinced he wasn’t coming out alive. And if it weren’t for Cam, Jayson, Dex and myself he may just have gotten that pre-emptive burial at your hands.
Ace: You act like I took pleasure in attacking him and cashing in my contractually promised match. It was for his own good.
Samael: Whatever helps you sleep at night, buttercup. Point is, even after everything went down at SuperBrawl, he kept your name close to him apparently. Maybe you knocked him on his head too hard. But he purposely removed you as his executor and named me in your stead because, always the professor type, he had one last thing he wanted to teach. One final piece of, say, parting wisdom to gain from him.
Ace: So Shawn’s using me as a goddamn learning tool for the
ing mentally handicapped and physically deformed?Christine: ACE.
Samael: **lightly touching his face, the scar throbbing because of his blood pressure** The scar of my past has determined my entire future. What’s your excuse for getting where you’re at? At least I’ve got a good story, in the end.
David puts his arm in front of Sam, who slowly lowers the only barrier between himself and Ace, whispering that it was fine, he was good. He flashes a smile to David, who shrugs.
Samael: The end all, be all of this is it’s not like you’re going without proper dues. Come with me, if you would. Something he wanted you to see again.
Bennett reluctantly agrees to follow Sam, and David up the master stairs to the second level of the estate; Christine behind. Ace is taking in the walk and the architecture that was once commonplace to the former Revelation member, this home once the glorified hangout of Ashton, Bennett, O’Deeves and Malakai back in the day. Getting a bit ahead, Sam whispers to David.
Samael: You align it how I asked?
David: Yeah. He’ll see it before you get in there.
Samael: I can’t believe we went out of our way so much for this f*cking…
David: Sam…
He looks over his shoulder and sees Ace is hot on his heels before the former National Champion is stopped in his tracks, his face turning from pasty white to green. The scent of disinfectant is wafting through the top level of the home, so strong it almost knocks Ace and Christine on their…you get the point, right?
Ace: **covering his face** How the hell are you two not keeling over?
David steps out of the way, looking at Ace.
David: We’ve grown numb because we were both here. At the end. At its worst.
Ace opens his eyes momentarily to see the reason David stepped aside; all of Shawn’s medical equipment has been removed from his bedroom and is stacked neatly by the door. Heart monitor, IV drip, ventilator. You name it.
Ace is beyond sick at this point. Sam opens up a large wood door and tosses Bennett through the doorway and slamming the door behind him, David being heard walking Christine down the stairs. Ace falls onto one of the couches dry heaving, the stench not in the room but still burning his nose. Sam gives him a bottle of water, which is quickly down the hatch so to speak. Sam laughs.
Samael: It’s amazing what one sense being bombarded by something overly strong and foreign can do to the rest of your faculties, isn’t it? See if you ever make fun of my f*cking hand again, that much is for sure.
Ace: **choking** I was expecting a f*cking specter to show up. That felt like a…
Samael: Moment of death? Relax. I hate your f*ckin’ guts, but I wouldn’t TRY to kill you. I’m saving that treat for Drakz, same way I got Kyzer.
Sam slaps the shoulder of Ace, going behind Malakai’s desk and rummaging through the drawers, mumbling to himself.
Ace: What are you on about?
Samael: Well now that I’ve put a little fear of Satan in you…
Ace: You mean God, right?
Sam pulls a pendant out of his back pocket while he’s rummaging, tossing it over the desk to Ace. Bennett almost tosses it across the room once he sees what it is.
Ace: Goat of Mendes. Right. You meant what you said. Didn’t know you really were a Satanist. Thought it was just a thing to scare the kids and Trevor Wolf.
Sam looks up, an envelope in his hands. He walks back around the desk, turning on the main light to the study and handing the envelope to Ace.
Ace: What’s this?
Samael: **retrieving his pendant** What Shawn left for you. If it’s anything like Scarlett’s, you should be in tears a few moments in.
Ace: With respect, f*ck Scarlett and her whole group of ‘saviors.’
Not intentionally trying to set up Bennett/Quinn for SuperBrawl here. Promise. Kinda. Fingers crossed?
Samael: Funny, that’s the same exact logic I used when the Konspiracy had my sorry ass blinded. Now here I am, aligned with Cameron Stone and Josh Dean against the Unholy Trio…one of whom was once a close, personal friend of yours. Kinda funny how it all comes full circle for, well, one of us anyways, isn’t it?
Ace huffs and opens up the envelope, Sam kicking back on the other couch. There is a thick piece of paper wrapped within a yellow tablet sheet. Sam’s seen this song and dance before, so he closes his eyes. Ace sets the thick paper to the side like the f*cking prick he is, opting instead to read the letter first.
Ace: Alright, old man. What did you have up your sleeve? Let’s see. Dated…June 18th…
…uhh....that doesn’t sound right…
Ace: …2014.
Sam shoots out of his seat.
Ace: Something wrong?
Samael: **settling down** I’ll tell you after. Just…read…
The AHA moment couldn’t have hit Sam any harder.
Ace: That means he wrote this right after…
Samael: SuperBrawl.
Ace: You knew when he wrote this?
Samael: Yeah. Of course.
Rule one about Samael, Samael always lies.
Ace: Ace. If this is the letter you get, that means however far back the date on this letter is to the current day, I’ve remained steadfast in my determination to see this action through, apparently to the bitter end. This also means that you and I haven’t talked in what I’m hoping isn’t all that long a time. You’ve come quite a long way since I first found you sitting in the back of the locker room in 2009, unsure which way was up. I was honored to have hit it off with you as well as I did. I had once been in your very shoes, and it took a guiding hand from Wayne to set me on the right path. So, shortly after your signing when Aaron Ashton had presented me with the idea of Revelation, I jumped on it instantly. Tag teams…stables…never my cup of tea, especially after Project Hardcore and Chemical Reaction both fell flat…
Really? Hate stables? Sam’s gonna have to have a chat with you when he joins you in hell.
Ace: …I’m quite sorry you and I were never able to achieve much success as a team in Revelation. Ashton insisted on he and I handling most of the tag team duties while O’Deeves reigned as National Champion and you had your issues with, well, who haven’t you had your issues with? Ultimately Ashton only wanted those tag matches as a way to hopefully weed out the other young talent and axe them, being you and Jon, and when he was the last man standing to be the one who took down the mighty High Horror. He was a c*nt. But after the dust settled, you and I were able to maintain a bond I never thought could be torn by professional jealousy. You were soon off doing your own thing, working with Kyzer, Donnie and that whole Epoch lot; something I’d never openly condone mind you…
Yep. Chat in hell.
Ace: But once you broke free and learned you could, in fact, stand on your own two feet it was amazing. When we won Scars and Stripes, I knew you and I would have to fight one final time at SuperBrawl. Never did I imagine in the format you chose, but the fact remained. Before SuperBrawl, when you tricked the world into thinking you had left the WFWF for good, foregoing your WFWF Championship match; the conversation we had up in Syracuse…God, Ace if you knew how loud my heart was singing for you. College. Planning a wedding. I would have thought…oh God.
Samael: What?
Ace: I would have thought you were my son; to be so irrevocably happy for someone; a feeling I had not felt since Xana died. Which was why I included this into my will, and despite your betrayal I have apparently stayed true to my word to myself. Having now been retired for a few months and had the chance to ponder why you could possibly stab myself, Sam and all of those who cared for you so greatly in our collective spines; the last words you ever said to me are, even now, resonating through my consciousness. ‘You know why I have to do this to you.’ In some twisted way, by taking me out, taking my title and forcing me from the WFWF for good you felt you were saving me from my demons. We’ll agree to disagree on that when you meet me…wherever people like us wind up after death. But I suppose the reason I’ve not changed this is because I know that you honestly believed in what you were saying. You believed you were saving me. And through all these years in the WFWF, all I’ve done is try to save others. While misguided, someone trying to do the opposite for me; it’s refreshing. Thank you.
Ace looks away from the letter to Sam.
Ace: Did you know he felt this strongly?
Samael: He repeated it almost daily
Ace looks around the room.
Ace: I…I haven’t been here since right after he came back in 2013. This room alone is full of enough memories to last a lifetime. Shawn. Aaron. Jon. Me. Back when things were simpler. Don’t you miss those days? When everything seemed like it was perfect?
Samael: At times. I’m of the mindset that everything happens for a reason, and life has to go on regardless. So…go on. Finish the letter. You’re in for a mild heart attack. I’m curious how he words it.
Ace: **clearing his throat** One does not have to repay friendship. But the kind of friendship you’ve shown me over the years goes beyond that of normal comprehension. And assuming you can follow through on a couple of things, graduated college and finished planning your wedding and accepting this sincerest of apology if you haven’t already depending on when you get this letter; once accomplished…please fill it. Please. It’s about time there was some new life breathing in here. See you somewhere.
Ace puts the letter down.
Ace: What’s he talking about?
Samael: The paper wrapped in the letter that you just casually set aside. Good on you reading the card before opening the present, so to say.
Ace picks up the heavy paper and unfolds it, a face of stone now showing.
Ace: Is this what…what I think…
Samael: You’ve made all the money in the world; but what good is it if you’ve nowhere to use it wisely? To plant roots? To live?
Sam gets to his feet and walks towards the door.
Samael: Whenever you’re ready, meet us downstairs. I’m sure Christine will be excited to hear of this news.
Sam walks out the door of the study, leaving Ace capable of nothing but staring at the paper.
The Malakai Estate outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania is now under the ownership of one Ace Bennett of Syracuse, New York. At last…the lone wanderer has a place to lay his head and REALLY call his home.
__
When I was reading over the portions of Shawn’s will that pertained to my specific job, the part that I questioned the most was what he left Ace. I wondered why the hell Shawn would leave him anything to begin with; I don’t find Ace qualified enough to even receive Andrew Carter’s…wrestling(?) boots, let alone something as colossal as the place where he spent the final 21 years of his life, the place where his heart was and his memory would carry on through those halls.
Ace Bennett though? Seriously? I was constantly thinking ‘You know what? Drakz and “Dog” would still be better deserving of this place than Ace.’ Oh, I’m not supposed to know about your precious “Dog?” Hey, he knows about Anna. Tough sh*t, Isaac.
It wasn’t until Ace and I really got to talking, for really the first time, that I realized how truly delusional he was in thinking what he’d done to Shawn at SuperBrawl was in any way justified. ‘This is what’s best!’ It was the same logic I used when I drove Sakabato into the throat of Kyle Matthews and joined up with the KoKaine Konspiracy. I guess I can see why he took so kindly to Ace and myself. Perhaps we weren’t so different? I mean, I only try to kill people on Pay Per View when they DESERVE it, but if Ace thought Shawn under the misapprehension that he would be a fighting champion who didn’t know when to call it quits then hey. I don’t agree with it, and if you really knew Shawn you’d know he was out before SuperBrawl but that’s none of my business is it?
After I REALLY thought about it and lost the nauseous feeling that had previously accompanied the mental images, I sort of got where Shawn was coming from, leaving his estate with Ace. He looked at Ace as the little child he had spoiled and ruined, but he never stopped caring for him even at his last breath. The sign of a good father. And while some might look at giving a 24 year old a mansion essentially free of charge (only payment being the guilt trip Ace has to experience every time he walks in that door after school or work or whatever he does nowadays) a poor thing if you’re trying to teach someone you consider your child a valuable lesson; he knows Ace will eventually grow up. Hell, I know that. It might take a while for the immaturity to go away; perhaps Christine will make a good man out of him yet. But Bennett has finally been GIVEN something. I’ll admit that he’s had a rough life. His upbringing, from what I know was rough. And now he has a jumpstart. He doesn’t need some ridiculous bank ruining his life before he can really get it started. But it wasn’t until Ace told me the date stamp on the letter that I had realized exactly what Shawn had given Ace.
He gave him his forgiveness. And he gave me the idea that forgiveness must always come first.
Shawn was able to write more than two years ago that he could forgive the man who ruined what was supposed to be the greatest moment of his professional career and the one moment that every child who adores WFWF will be able to look back and watch for centuries to come.
I suppose if he can forgive Ace, I have no choice but to follow suit. And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll be able to look back at everything Drakz has put me through and I’ll be able to forgive him to! A whole new outlook on life itself!
And maybe I’ll settle for being merciful and shove my sword down his f*cking throat, let his body decide for itself if he will die from injuries, choking on the steel or its own blood and call it a day.
Not gonna lie, I like the sound of the latter.
__
I dont know good luck 
