Post by Kurt Burton: Script Doctor! on Jan 10, 2008 19:46:25 GMT -5
Stop! Before you delve into my latest tapestry of human drama, check out Kat Hamilton's RP for the week. You will understand things better.
9:30 PM
I really hate this crap. I don’t know what it is, but my mouth continuosly writecs checks that I can’t, or don’t want to cash. After everything at Dwayne’s house, I find myself now checked into a hotel, a nice one though, cut off from Kat. I really hate myself.
The room is nice though. I splurged. Hilton all the way. My favorite part, the thing that has had me fascinated for hours, is the light dimmer. I don’t know, but it doesn’t flip, and that has me amazed. I am relaxing on the bed, the lights turned low, and trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened. I hear Fade to Black, and reach for my cell phone. Who the hell is calling me?
I don’t recognize the number. Probably just Wayne though. I flip it open.
“What up mofo?” Cheesiness hides anguish very well.
“Curtis?” I know that voice, the devil himself is on the line. I could tell by the raspy, yet booming voice. Plus, only one person ever calls me Curtis.
I don’t reply at first. My mind is gripped between a very odd combination of panic, grief, and anger. There is only one thing I could say.
“Hi Reverend Burton, how are you doing this fair evening?”
“I would appreciate if you would show me the respect I deserve.”
What is the deal with all of these asswipes thinking they deserve my respect just because they are as old as Methuselah?
“I would appreciate you telling me how you got my cell phone number.”
“I called your employer, and I explained to him the situation.”
“And what is the situation?”
The silence on the other end of the line is deafening, I can feel the sledge hammer abnout to drop on my pig-head. He clears his throat.
“It’s been what? Ten years now?”
“You gone senile old man, I was just down there a few months ago. You remember, I told you I was recovering from alcoholism, you told me I was the devil. You know the standard.”
The silence from the other end of the line now seemed to represent indignant rage. Oh well.
“It has been ten years since the incident.”
My heart skipped a beat. I can’t believe he would bring that up as callously and spamntly as calling it “the incident.” I am positive there is a great spot in hell reserved for this “man of God.”
“Yes, it has been about ten years.”
“Well, maybe you could come down, and we could talk.”
“Your conscience finally getting to you old man?”
“Curtis, why are you so hostile? I am trying to talk…”
I cut him off. The man is as good a manipulator as I am.
“Cut the crap old man. You never did anything for me, or for Trixie. And now, you want me to forgive and forget. Forgive all of the times you told me I was going to hell. All the times you said it was my fault, all the beatings, and you want me to forgive and forget.”
He stays silent, for hust a short time, I want to continue, but my heart’s not in it right now. Not after what happened tonight.
He finally speaks up. “I have lung cancer Curtis.”
That was definitely unexpected. I sit silent, a little stunned at first, the man goes on and on. I can’t pay attention to most of it.
“Curtis, you are the only child I have, and I don’t want to die alone.”
“See, this is your problem old man, it’s always about you. Do you even admit you have done wrong by me?”
There is silence.
“Please Curtis, try to show some pity towards your father.”
I search my heart, but I know. I know the truth. And I have to say.
“Reverend Burton, you’ve been dead to me for a long time. Good luck with that whole cancer thing, and give Lucifer my regards.”
I slammed my phone shut. And I felt an odd sensation flush over my body. A feeling of shame. I should have been the bigger man. I should have accepted the hand he was reaching out with, but I couldn’t. I don’t know, call me what you will, but when you’ve witnessed the stuff I have witnessed, and gone through what I have been through, then you can judge what I have done.
Who the
am I talking to?
************************************************************************
I think back to that day, ten years ago. The police lights flashing in our yard, me trying to make a drunken sprint to my room, I had no clue why they were there. I scaled the side of my house, hoping my deft ninja moves would evade the prying eyes of the police. As I got into my room, I curled up in bed. Suddenly my door flung open.
“Where the hell were you?!”
He screamed, as though possessed, his eyes flashing nothing but rage and anger. His fists fell on me, and I couldn’t raise my arms to defend myself. After the second blow, I could taste the salt of the blood draining from my nose into my throat. Suddenly a police officer dragged him away.
“You need to calm down Reverend, this won’t bring her back.”
************************************************************************
He is right, it is my fault. I can see her, I can picture her clearly in my mind’s eye. Her flowing hair, a light shade of brown. Her smile, that just wrapped around you like a blanket. She is gone. She has been gone Kurt. Ten Years, its time to move on.
I need a drink. That Mini-bar looks so tempting.
***********************************************************************
11:30pm
WFWF.COM/Videos/BurtonSHiznat!
The video quality is poor, due to the terrible lighting in which it was shot, but it is obvious what this newly loaded video is. The beautiful room has been ripped to shreds, and empty bottles of almost every form of alcohol lie strewn about threw the room. The footage obviously came from a webcam, due to its odd jumpiness, and the computer must not have been sitting level, as the screen is tilted off to the side. In front of a bed, sipping on a Jack Daniels, is Kurt Burton.
Kurt: Hey Johnny! What’s going down Daddio? Me, nothing much, sitting in this hotel room, reacquainting with an old buddy.
Kurt takes a heavy swig from the bottle, practically drowning himself as he pulls the bottle away from his face.
Kurt: For far too long, as I was the biggest laughing stock inside of the WFWF, and so, I have to thank you. You been here for a couple months, and you already took all the heat off me.
Kurt laughs, a little condescendingly.
Kurt: Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you’re a terrible wrestler, skeezoid. Hell, I think you are probably one of the best I ever stepped in the ring wit… but you have seriously got to accli… acli… get used to the modern world. Cuz the Danny Zucko gear, it ain’t doing it for me. It’s like I see you, and I start thinking how great you are in that ring, and then how stupid you look, and I don’t know whether to applaud or laugh. YOU’RE TEARING ME APART!!!
His dramatic face fades away, and he begins laughing again.
Kurt: But this should be loads of fun. Cuz I’m great, and you’re great. It’s gonna be a whole lot of greatness. But just remember kid, that even though you may have a lot of spunk, there’s one thing you should remember. See I’m Auto-matic. I’m System-matic. I’m Hyyyyydro-matic. Why, I’m Greased Lightning!
Kurt seems to have really amused himself, as he practically falls on the floor laughing.
Kurt: I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. Oh… who am I kidding, I’m not sorry at all. God, I never thought watching Grease all those times would ever pay off. Hey! Don’t laugh.
His finger waives back and forth menacingly inside the screen as he tries to hold his balance.
Kurt: My sister made me do it! To Trixie!
He pours his Jack on the carpet.
Kurt: To be totally honest Val… can I call you Val? To be totally honest… I just don’t care right now, which is a bad place for you to be… Because I’ll be burning up the quarter mile like a souped up Chevy, while you’ll be choking on my dust like a Studebaker. See, when I don’t care, I get mean… mean enough to make you look like Richie Cunningham.
Kurt smiles wide, flashing that evil grin, missing for months.
Kurt: Or maybe Chcachi… does your pretty little thing there, does she love your Chachi… because honestly… I think she’s kind of one the Richie Cunningham side herself…. Who knows though, maybe she can’t do you at all, cuz maybe she don’t got the parts… and you found yourself the Lordess of Flatbush…
He laughs again, this time totally falling over.
Kurt: Look here Fonzarelli, I could go on like this all day. But I’ve gotta go… sorry, but hey… them’s the breaks kiddo. See, I got a fine young skirt lined up… and I’m about to make my Outsider go inside her.
He throws a little laughing fit, and it looks like it huts him, he’s laughing so hard. He reaches his hand, and the screen goes black.
***************************************************
1:00 PM- The following day.
Fade to Black blares out, as I slowly open my eyes. My head feels like it just got run over by a Mack truck, and I frantically reach around, trying to find the phone, afraid of opening my eyes. I get ahold of it, and answer.
“Hello”
I recognized the voice instantly, its low, raspy, and very, very pissed.
“What was that stunt you pulled on the website?”
Wayne sounded incredibly pissed. I tried to think, tried to figure out what he was talking about, but I think the hamster must have died at the wheel.
“What?”
“You posted a video around 11:30 PM, verbally attacking Johnny Valentine. And you were so drunk that you could barely hold yourself up.”
I tried to get any recollection of what he was talking about, but I couldn’t.
“And you followed up that stunt by posting a second unauthorized video of you and a ten dollar whore doing the nasty. Do you know what kind of trouble we are in now? Parker wants your ass, and I have half a mind to give it to him.”
I was shocked, and at a total loss for words.
“Kat’s been calling me, livid, screaming and wanting your head. Are you in Boston?”
I struggled for words.
“Yes.”
“Get to the airport, there’s gonna be a ticket with your name on it. You and I are going to have a little talk.”
I heard the click, I dropped my phone. Trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I struggled to get up.
I reallying hate myself.
9:30 PM
I really hate this crap. I don’t know what it is, but my mouth continuosly writecs checks that I can’t, or don’t want to cash. After everything at Dwayne’s house, I find myself now checked into a hotel, a nice one though, cut off from Kat. I really hate myself.
The room is nice though. I splurged. Hilton all the way. My favorite part, the thing that has had me fascinated for hours, is the light dimmer. I don’t know, but it doesn’t flip, and that has me amazed. I am relaxing on the bed, the lights turned low, and trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened. I hear Fade to Black, and reach for my cell phone. Who the hell is calling me?
I don’t recognize the number. Probably just Wayne though. I flip it open.
“What up mofo?” Cheesiness hides anguish very well.
“Curtis?” I know that voice, the devil himself is on the line. I could tell by the raspy, yet booming voice. Plus, only one person ever calls me Curtis.
I don’t reply at first. My mind is gripped between a very odd combination of panic, grief, and anger. There is only one thing I could say.
“Hi Reverend Burton, how are you doing this fair evening?”
“I would appreciate if you would show me the respect I deserve.”
What is the deal with all of these asswipes thinking they deserve my respect just because they are as old as Methuselah?
“I would appreciate you telling me how you got my cell phone number.”
“I called your employer, and I explained to him the situation.”
“And what is the situation?”
The silence on the other end of the line is deafening, I can feel the sledge hammer abnout to drop on my pig-head. He clears his throat.
“It’s been what? Ten years now?”
“You gone senile old man, I was just down there a few months ago. You remember, I told you I was recovering from alcoholism, you told me I was the devil. You know the standard.”
The silence from the other end of the line now seemed to represent indignant rage. Oh well.
“It has been ten years since the incident.”
My heart skipped a beat. I can’t believe he would bring that up as callously and spamntly as calling it “the incident.” I am positive there is a great spot in hell reserved for this “man of God.”
“Yes, it has been about ten years.”
“Well, maybe you could come down, and we could talk.”
“Your conscience finally getting to you old man?”
“Curtis, why are you so hostile? I am trying to talk…”
I cut him off. The man is as good a manipulator as I am.
“Cut the crap old man. You never did anything for me, or for Trixie. And now, you want me to forgive and forget. Forgive all of the times you told me I was going to hell. All the times you said it was my fault, all the beatings, and you want me to forgive and forget.”
He stays silent, for hust a short time, I want to continue, but my heart’s not in it right now. Not after what happened tonight.
He finally speaks up. “I have lung cancer Curtis.”
That was definitely unexpected. I sit silent, a little stunned at first, the man goes on and on. I can’t pay attention to most of it.
“Curtis, you are the only child I have, and I don’t want to die alone.”
“See, this is your problem old man, it’s always about you. Do you even admit you have done wrong by me?”
There is silence.
“Please Curtis, try to show some pity towards your father.”
I search my heart, but I know. I know the truth. And I have to say.
“Reverend Burton, you’ve been dead to me for a long time. Good luck with that whole cancer thing, and give Lucifer my regards.”
I slammed my phone shut. And I felt an odd sensation flush over my body. A feeling of shame. I should have been the bigger man. I should have accepted the hand he was reaching out with, but I couldn’t. I don’t know, call me what you will, but when you’ve witnessed the stuff I have witnessed, and gone through what I have been through, then you can judge what I have done.
Who the
am I talking to? ************************************************************************
I think back to that day, ten years ago. The police lights flashing in our yard, me trying to make a drunken sprint to my room, I had no clue why they were there. I scaled the side of my house, hoping my deft ninja moves would evade the prying eyes of the police. As I got into my room, I curled up in bed. Suddenly my door flung open.
“Where the hell were you?!”
He screamed, as though possessed, his eyes flashing nothing but rage and anger. His fists fell on me, and I couldn’t raise my arms to defend myself. After the second blow, I could taste the salt of the blood draining from my nose into my throat. Suddenly a police officer dragged him away.
“You need to calm down Reverend, this won’t bring her back.”
************************************************************************
He is right, it is my fault. I can see her, I can picture her clearly in my mind’s eye. Her flowing hair, a light shade of brown. Her smile, that just wrapped around you like a blanket. She is gone. She has been gone Kurt. Ten Years, its time to move on.
I need a drink. That Mini-bar looks so tempting.
***********************************************************************
11:30pm
WFWF.COM/Videos/BurtonSHiznat!
The video quality is poor, due to the terrible lighting in which it was shot, but it is obvious what this newly loaded video is. The beautiful room has been ripped to shreds, and empty bottles of almost every form of alcohol lie strewn about threw the room. The footage obviously came from a webcam, due to its odd jumpiness, and the computer must not have been sitting level, as the screen is tilted off to the side. In front of a bed, sipping on a Jack Daniels, is Kurt Burton.
Kurt: Hey Johnny! What’s going down Daddio? Me, nothing much, sitting in this hotel room, reacquainting with an old buddy.
Kurt takes a heavy swig from the bottle, practically drowning himself as he pulls the bottle away from his face.
Kurt: For far too long, as I was the biggest laughing stock inside of the WFWF, and so, I have to thank you. You been here for a couple months, and you already took all the heat off me.
Kurt laughs, a little condescendingly.
Kurt: Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you’re a terrible wrestler, skeezoid. Hell, I think you are probably one of the best I ever stepped in the ring wit… but you have seriously got to accli… acli… get used to the modern world. Cuz the Danny Zucko gear, it ain’t doing it for me. It’s like I see you, and I start thinking how great you are in that ring, and then how stupid you look, and I don’t know whether to applaud or laugh. YOU’RE TEARING ME APART!!!
His dramatic face fades away, and he begins laughing again.
Kurt: But this should be loads of fun. Cuz I’m great, and you’re great. It’s gonna be a whole lot of greatness. But just remember kid, that even though you may have a lot of spunk, there’s one thing you should remember. See I’m Auto-matic. I’m System-matic. I’m Hyyyyydro-matic. Why, I’m Greased Lightning!
Kurt seems to have really amused himself, as he practically falls on the floor laughing.
Kurt: I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. Oh… who am I kidding, I’m not sorry at all. God, I never thought watching Grease all those times would ever pay off. Hey! Don’t laugh.
His finger waives back and forth menacingly inside the screen as he tries to hold his balance.
Kurt: My sister made me do it! To Trixie!
He pours his Jack on the carpet.
Kurt: To be totally honest Val… can I call you Val? To be totally honest… I just don’t care right now, which is a bad place for you to be… Because I’ll be burning up the quarter mile like a souped up Chevy, while you’ll be choking on my dust like a Studebaker. See, when I don’t care, I get mean… mean enough to make you look like Richie Cunningham.
Kurt smiles wide, flashing that evil grin, missing for months.
Kurt: Or maybe Chcachi… does your pretty little thing there, does she love your Chachi… because honestly… I think she’s kind of one the Richie Cunningham side herself…. Who knows though, maybe she can’t do you at all, cuz maybe she don’t got the parts… and you found yourself the Lordess of Flatbush…
He laughs again, this time totally falling over.
Kurt: Look here Fonzarelli, I could go on like this all day. But I’ve gotta go… sorry, but hey… them’s the breaks kiddo. See, I got a fine young skirt lined up… and I’m about to make my Outsider go inside her.
He throws a little laughing fit, and it looks like it huts him, he’s laughing so hard. He reaches his hand, and the screen goes black.
***************************************************
1:00 PM- The following day.
Fade to Black blares out, as I slowly open my eyes. My head feels like it just got run over by a Mack truck, and I frantically reach around, trying to find the phone, afraid of opening my eyes. I get ahold of it, and answer.
“Hello”
I recognized the voice instantly, its low, raspy, and very, very pissed.
“What was that stunt you pulled on the website?”
Wayne sounded incredibly pissed. I tried to think, tried to figure out what he was talking about, but I think the hamster must have died at the wheel.
“What?”
“You posted a video around 11:30 PM, verbally attacking Johnny Valentine. And you were so drunk that you could barely hold yourself up.”
I tried to get any recollection of what he was talking about, but I couldn’t.
“And you followed up that stunt by posting a second unauthorized video of you and a ten dollar whore doing the nasty. Do you know what kind of trouble we are in now? Parker wants your ass, and I have half a mind to give it to him.”
I was shocked, and at a total loss for words.
“Kat’s been calling me, livid, screaming and wanting your head. Are you in Boston?”
I struggled for words.
“Yes.”
“Get to the airport, there’s gonna be a ticket with your name on it. You and I are going to have a little talk.”
I heard the click, I dropped my phone. Trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I struggled to get up.
I really
ing hate myself.
