Post by Kurt Burton: Script Doctor! on Oct 7, 2007 14:00:22 GMT -5
Kurt Burton bided his time, locked away in Phoenix. No one heard from him. This was nothing to be worried about, it was standard in rehabilitation programs for a man to be totally cut off from society. The days passed, and the weeks, and the months.
And then a surprise. With no notice, or warning or build, Kurt Burton was scheduled in a match at the final Felo De Se. It had been a mixed bag for Burton, with wins and loses pretty even on this show, not nearly the reign of terror he had dreamed it to be. And the night came. The lights were on bright, and EBR stood in the ring, and out came Kurt Burton. His hair shorter, and not green. His clothing not torn to shreds. His cockiness had disappeared, replaced by legitimate confidence. The stagger had disappeared from his walk, replaced with a new swagger. The man before us was a new man.
A new man, he thought,, sliding his finger along his suit as the bus ploded through the disreputable part of town. He smiled as he continued on.
The match was high octane as EBR and Kurt Burton put on one of the top matches on a stacked card. Burton hit hard, heavy and quickly with a blistering array of suplexes and take-downs, forcing EBR out of his set game plan. Though caught in the end with the One Blood, Burton was clearly close to winning the match on numerous occasions. Is this what we should expect from this formidable opponent?
Damn Straight, Burton folded his laptop, amazing what kind things Wrestling News Now was finally saying about me. After a year in that ring, breaking his body, and all the while being called "undeserving" or a "joke". They had spent months destroying his credibility as a Tag Team Champion, despite the fact he won the belts twice, and now they are singing his praises, and stating the match on this weeks Loaded will be a close race between The Axis, Lee & Castle, and the Survivors. In previous matches, the Axis would have never been in the top half for any predictions, now, they are considered one of THE three.
I really hate those goddamn internet marks.
He glanced out the window. He recognized the diner and the chili shop. His stop was coming up in just a moment. He saw a drunkard standing where he needed to get off, and fought back the urge to pull the chord. As part of his recovery, he needed to let go, and not take as much control as he had in the past.
He stepped out of the bus, taking in the dingy surroundings. He stood in front of the Brass Ass, a name that summons thoughts of the tackiest tittie bars. This one put them all to shame. He walked in, underneath of the glowing pink picture of a donkey.
The bar was dimly lit everywhere except for the stage, on which some generic stripper chick shimmied her ass for the green. When you'd been to as many strip joints as he had, you were not easily impressed. He walked up to the DJ Booth, where an overweight man drooled as he watched. Burton reached into his pocket, producing a crisp clean fifty dollar bill from his pocket. He laid it down with enough force to get the man's attention.
Who's up next?
Heather Lace.
He knew that name, it was her.
Tell you what. This fifty here, its yours, if you play this song.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled a CD.
Track 1.
It's yours man, she always lets me pick her music anyways.
Kurt left the man, and went to sit directly in front of the stage. He knew she would be shocked. It had been a few months, and he didn't know if she'd recognize him. The girl onstage was just meandering back and forth, rubbing her hands up and down her body. She winked at him, and sauntered over to him. She may not be the best, but she knows where the money is. Right here, with him, not Quasimodo in the corner, but the clean cut man in the suit. He waived her away, partly due to her bizarre snaggle tooth that looked to be growing mold, but mostly, because he wasn’t here to see her.
Her song came to a close, and Burton waived goodbye to her. She seemed sweet, in a totally repulsive way. She gathered up the scattered bills, and her discarded wardrobe, and headed out to the back. He looked to his side, and there she was. Wearing a mini-skirt that did not even cover her tiny thong, and a halter top so tight her breasts screamed for freedom, was the only woman he wanted.
Let’s here it for the two time jello wrestling champion, the high flying acrobat of the pole, Heather Lace.
Kat Hamilton. The sight of her as she prepared for her dance brought the butterflies into his stomach. She stretched, and the music began with a familiar crunching guitar of “Whatever”. Kat darted up from her position and looked over to the DJ. Kurt remained sitting, his eyes focused on her.
I told you to never play this damn song.
It’s alright. It’s a request from a big fan.
She looked towards him, their eyes catching. Though only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity. He choked on his next sentence, and discovered an emotion he had long thought dead. Fear.
She turned, as the tears began to well in her eyes, and left the stage. The DJ stood frozen, as he tried to figure a way out. Kurt chased after her.
Wait, Kat…
Go away Kurt.
She turned and stared him in the eye. Her lips said go, but her eyes begged him to stay.
I just want to talk… it’ll only be a couple of minutes.
You want to talk?
He nodded.
Twenty dollars.
What?
I’m at work Mr. Burton. And I can’t waste my time here talking to a deadbeat like you. You want to talk, we’ll take it to the couches.
Reluctantly, he reached into his wallet, and pulled out a twenty. She took him by the wrist, dragging him forcefully over to the private section. The DJ looked worried.
Kat do you need any…
I’ve got it under control Terry.
She threw him down on the couch, and pulled the curtain behind them.
Talk.
Well, I just…
The words froze on the tip of his tongue. It was quite a strange feeling for a man as outspoken as Kurt to be tongue-tied. He wanted to profess his love for her. He wanted to say how every second they had been apart over the past five months had felt like a dagger sinking deeper into his heart. But none of those words came to his lips.
Why are you stripping?
Five months, and you’re throwing out accusations.
I’m not accusing you. You made a lot of friends there, and you could have easily managed anyone to success.
She paused, as she thought about his rationale.
I didn’t want to be there any more.
He tapped his thighs struggling to get the words right. His heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer on crack.
Look you wanted to talk to me. Here’s your chance.
All right, look… I know that I
ed up. Plain and simple. I took you for granted, every kind thing you did that was above your call of duty. As my business partner, my friend, and well… you know, I underestimated how important you were to me. And that was a terrible mistake on my part.
She rose to her feet.
If this is…
Please let me finish. I’ve spent three months locked in a room with no windows eating food that a dog would turn its nose at, and the only thing that got me through was thinking about this moment, right here and now. So if I can finish what I need to say, I’d be very grateful.
She sat back down, nervously looking at him.
I know that one night, things got out of hand. And you were right, I probably was going to hit you. I’ve done a lot ofed up things in my time, and that wouldn’t have even neared the top of crap heap. I have no idea what you saw in me. I honestly don’t. I’m a piece of ****. And I want to say my time in rehab has changed me. I don’t know. It might have, but… I don’t know. Maybe if you shine up a turd, maybe all you have is just a shining turd. The only thing I can say is that I need you. Now, regardless of your answer here. I’ve got a plane ticket, I’m moving on to the next show. Going for my third tag title. Now, I want you to see… see what I’ve become. I know, you don’t trust me…
He checked her face for a sign of approval. The glance she threw back only reaffirmed his statement.
Hell, I don’t trust me. Nobody trusts me. I’ve lied, cheated, stolen… you were there.
I know… I remember. You stole the wronging mailbox.
She laughs.
Yeah I know.
It wasn’t even EBR that stole yours. It was Calvin.
Oh really.
Yeah.
. See, this is why I need you. Damage control. Why didn’t you tell me that I stole the wrong mailbox?
I tried, but you were drunk.
Well, I know there’s a lot of ground that I have to cover, to even begin to make things right. But please… give this dog a bone.
She looked him up and down.
And I just want to say… I’m sorry. For everything I’ve done. I am sorry.
This was a first. The arrogant Kurt Burton apologizing. She couldn’t believe her ears.
I wish I could just pick up and go… But I have responsibilities.
At a strip club. They could replace you in hours.
I’m not just a dancer dip ****… I run this place now.
Kurt was taken aback.
I’ve run this place for about three months now. And if you think this place is tacky now, you should have seen it before.
If you run this place, then why are you onstage.
I miss the rush. The cheers, the vibe of a crowd. I’ve only danced three times here.
She winked at him.
I’ve always told you, I’m much more than a pretty face.
She gave him a hug.
I’ll try to make it out for your match. No guarantee though.
No guarantee was a lot more than he had ever given her. He held her tight, taking in the putrid smell of the sweat and perfume. Though a repugnant smell, there was something about it that got him going. He pulled away, and went for a kiss.
Not so fast. I am giving our business relationship another chance. It’ll be a while before I entertain the notion of a romantic liason.
She was right. He was moving too fast through the stages, and to fast for her. They seperated, he could tell the tears were welling up in her eyes again.
it.
She thrust herself on him, taking him in, searching through him. His heart raced, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. The kiss lasted nearly an eternity, and when it ended, she giggled.
See you later, Mr. Burton.
Goodbye, Ms. Hamilton.
He stepped out of the curtain, his strut more defined than even the cockiest pimps, he was walking on clouds all the way out of the club. As he stepped onto the street, he hailed a cab. A cab stopped immediately, and he climbed into the back.
I need to go to CVG. And take the long way.
The cabby smiled a near toothless grin, as he pulled back into traffic. Burton pulled the lap top from its case. It was time to mess with these smarks.
And then a surprise. With no notice, or warning or build, Kurt Burton was scheduled in a match at the final Felo De Se. It had been a mixed bag for Burton, with wins and loses pretty even on this show, not nearly the reign of terror he had dreamed it to be. And the night came. The lights were on bright, and EBR stood in the ring, and out came Kurt Burton. His hair shorter, and not green. His clothing not torn to shreds. His cockiness had disappeared, replaced by legitimate confidence. The stagger had disappeared from his walk, replaced with a new swagger. The man before us was a new man.
A new man, he thought,, sliding his finger along his suit as the bus ploded through the disreputable part of town. He smiled as he continued on.
The match was high octane as EBR and Kurt Burton put on one of the top matches on a stacked card. Burton hit hard, heavy and quickly with a blistering array of suplexes and take-downs, forcing EBR out of his set game plan. Though caught in the end with the One Blood, Burton was clearly close to winning the match on numerous occasions. Is this what we should expect from this formidable opponent?
Damn Straight, Burton folded his laptop, amazing what kind things Wrestling News Now was finally saying about me. After a year in that ring, breaking his body, and all the while being called "undeserving" or a "joke". They had spent months destroying his credibility as a Tag Team Champion, despite the fact he won the belts twice, and now they are singing his praises, and stating the match on this weeks Loaded will be a close race between The Axis, Lee & Castle, and the Survivors. In previous matches, the Axis would have never been in the top half for any predictions, now, they are considered one of THE three.
I really hate those goddamn internet marks.
He glanced out the window. He recognized the diner and the chili shop. His stop was coming up in just a moment. He saw a drunkard standing where he needed to get off, and fought back the urge to pull the chord. As part of his recovery, he needed to let go, and not take as much control as he had in the past.
He stepped out of the bus, taking in the dingy surroundings. He stood in front of the Brass Ass, a name that summons thoughts of the tackiest tittie bars. This one put them all to shame. He walked in, underneath of the glowing pink picture of a donkey.
The bar was dimly lit everywhere except for the stage, on which some generic stripper chick shimmied her ass for the green. When you'd been to as many strip joints as he had, you were not easily impressed. He walked up to the DJ Booth, where an overweight man drooled as he watched. Burton reached into his pocket, producing a crisp clean fifty dollar bill from his pocket. He laid it down with enough force to get the man's attention.
Who's up next?
Heather Lace.
He knew that name, it was her.
Tell you what. This fifty here, its yours, if you play this song.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled a CD.
Track 1.
It's yours man, she always lets me pick her music anyways.
Kurt left the man, and went to sit directly in front of the stage. He knew she would be shocked. It had been a few months, and he didn't know if she'd recognize him. The girl onstage was just meandering back and forth, rubbing her hands up and down her body. She winked at him, and sauntered over to him. She may not be the best, but she knows where the money is. Right here, with him, not Quasimodo in the corner, but the clean cut man in the suit. He waived her away, partly due to her bizarre snaggle tooth that looked to be growing mold, but mostly, because he wasn’t here to see her.
Her song came to a close, and Burton waived goodbye to her. She seemed sweet, in a totally repulsive way. She gathered up the scattered bills, and her discarded wardrobe, and headed out to the back. He looked to his side, and there she was. Wearing a mini-skirt that did not even cover her tiny thong, and a halter top so tight her breasts screamed for freedom, was the only woman he wanted.
Let’s here it for the two time jello wrestling champion, the high flying acrobat of the pole, Heather Lace.
Kat Hamilton. The sight of her as she prepared for her dance brought the butterflies into his stomach. She stretched, and the music began with a familiar crunching guitar of “Whatever”. Kat darted up from her position and looked over to the DJ. Kurt remained sitting, his eyes focused on her.
I told you to never play this damn song.
It’s alright. It’s a request from a big fan.
She looked towards him, their eyes catching. Though only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity. He choked on his next sentence, and discovered an emotion he had long thought dead. Fear.
She turned, as the tears began to well in her eyes, and left the stage. The DJ stood frozen, as he tried to figure a way out. Kurt chased after her.
Wait, Kat…
Go away Kurt.
She turned and stared him in the eye. Her lips said go, but her eyes begged him to stay.
I just want to talk… it’ll only be a couple of minutes.
You want to talk?
He nodded.
Twenty dollars.
What?
I’m at work Mr. Burton. And I can’t waste my time here talking to a deadbeat like you. You want to talk, we’ll take it to the couches.
Reluctantly, he reached into his wallet, and pulled out a twenty. She took him by the wrist, dragging him forcefully over to the private section. The DJ looked worried.
Kat do you need any…
I’ve got it under control Terry.
She threw him down on the couch, and pulled the curtain behind them.
Talk.
Well, I just…
The words froze on the tip of his tongue. It was quite a strange feeling for a man as outspoken as Kurt to be tongue-tied. He wanted to profess his love for her. He wanted to say how every second they had been apart over the past five months had felt like a dagger sinking deeper into his heart. But none of those words came to his lips.
Why are you stripping?
Five months, and you’re throwing out accusations.
I’m not accusing you. You made a lot of friends there, and you could have easily managed anyone to success.
She paused, as she thought about his rationale.
I didn’t want to be there any more.
He tapped his thighs struggling to get the words right. His heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer on crack.
Look you wanted to talk to me. Here’s your chance.
All right, look… I know that I
ed up. Plain and simple. I took you for granted, every kind thing you did that was above your call of duty. As my business partner, my friend, and well… you know, I underestimated how important you were to me. And that was a terrible mistake on my part. She rose to her feet.
If this is…
Please let me finish. I’ve spent three months locked in a room with no windows eating food that a dog would turn its nose at, and the only thing that got me through was thinking about this moment, right here and now. So if I can finish what I need to say, I’d be very grateful.
She sat back down, nervously looking at him.
I know that one night, things got out of hand. And you were right, I probably was going to hit you. I’ve done a lot of
ed up things in my time, and that wouldn’t have even neared the top of crap heap. I have no idea what you saw in me. I honestly don’t. I’m a piece of ****. And I want to say my time in rehab has changed me. I don’t know. It might have, but… I don’t know. Maybe if you shine up a turd, maybe all you have is just a shining turd. The only thing I can say is that I need you. Now, regardless of your answer here. I’ve got a plane ticket, I’m moving on to the next show. Going for my third tag title. Now, I want you to see… see what I’ve become. I know, you don’t trust me…He checked her face for a sign of approval. The glance she threw back only reaffirmed his statement.
Hell, I don’t trust me. Nobody trusts me. I’ve lied, cheated, stolen… you were there.
I know… I remember. You stole the wrong
ing mailbox. She laughs.
Yeah I know.
It wasn’t even EBR that stole yours. It was Calvin.
Oh really.
Yeah.
. See, this is why I need you. Damage control. Why didn’t you tell me that I stole the wrong mailbox? I tried, but you were drunk.
Well, I know there’s a lot of ground that I have to cover, to even begin to make things right. But please… give this dog a bone.
She looked him up and down.
And I just want to say… I’m sorry. For everything I’ve done. I am sorry.
This was a first. The arrogant Kurt Burton apologizing. She couldn’t believe her ears.
I wish I could just pick up and go… But I have responsibilities.
At a strip club. They could replace you in hours.
I’m not just a dancer dip ****… I run this place now.
Kurt was taken aback.
I’ve run this place for about three months now. And if you think this place is tacky now, you should have seen it before.
If you run this place, then why are you onstage.
I miss the rush. The cheers, the vibe of a crowd. I’ve only danced three times here.
She winked at him.
I’ve always told you, I’m much more than a pretty face.
She gave him a hug.
I’ll try to make it out for your match. No guarantee though.
No guarantee was a lot more than he had ever given her. He held her tight, taking in the putrid smell of the sweat and perfume. Though a repugnant smell, there was something about it that got him going. He pulled away, and went for a kiss.
Not so fast. I am giving our business relationship another chance. It’ll be a while before I entertain the notion of a romantic liason.
She was right. He was moving too fast through the stages, and to fast for her. They seperated, he could tell the tears were welling up in her eyes again.
it. She thrust herself on him, taking him in, searching through him. His heart raced, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. The kiss lasted nearly an eternity, and when it ended, she giggled.
See you later, Mr. Burton.
Goodbye, Ms. Hamilton.
He stepped out of the curtain, his strut more defined than even the cockiest pimps, he was walking on clouds all the way out of the club. As he stepped onto the street, he hailed a cab. A cab stopped immediately, and he climbed into the back.
I need to go to CVG. And take the long way.
The cabby smiled a near toothless grin, as he pulled back into traffic. Burton pulled the lap top from its case. It was time to mess with these smarks.
