Post by aaronosmosis on Feb 13, 2020 3:12:22 GMT -5
[]FADE IN: Mansion. Tempe, Arizona[]
-[VOICE]-:
{Calm} Clarissa! I need to tell you something.
OPEN to a moss green colored leather one-seat sofa, within a pristine lounge room. The room itself appears to have been cleaned within the previous three hours, as the smell of detergent still floats throughout the air and the slate white woollen floor appears to still be drying out. The scent of a lavender varnish is also emitting from the oak table situated about five feet in front of the sofa. Lending credence to the "recent cleaning" has occurred.
On the sofa, sits a masculine figure <Attired in a plain jet black shirt, denim jeans and jet black/neon yellow sneakers>, who holds an A4 sheet of paper in his left hand.
-[VOICE]-:
(They really want me to re-enter the ring?)
Slightly smiling, a feminine figure,<Attired in a tight-fitting hot pink tank top, black leggings and snow-white gym shoes> comes walking into the room. Taking a seat on the sofa about three feet to the male's left.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Relaxed} What is it, Aaron? {Thoughtful} Don't tell me it's another day trip form from Mile's school.
Aaron shakes his head.
-[AARON]-:
{Calm} No. {Relaxed, cautious} A company wants me to sign with them and return to wrestling.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Surprised} I thought you said you were finished with wrestling back in September. That you had nothing left to prove in the ring.
-[AARON]-:
(I thought I was too ...)
The female looks at Aaron, as he reaches out his arm to show her the paper.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Calmly} So, you're thinking of returning?
-[AARON]-:
{Softly} Yeah. I am, Clarissa. Honestly, you know that I was made for wrestling. That my vacation from the ring was never going to be permanent. I think we both realize that.
Clarissa looks at the letter, then at Aaron. Nodding her head slightly.
-[CLARISSA]-:
(I guess you're right there.) {Relaxed, soft} I was hoping that you leaving wrestling would enable us to have more family time. {Thoughtfully} Though you're right. I probably shouldn't have expected it would be permanent.
-[AARON]-:
{Gently} Don't worry. We'll still have our family time together. {Slightly firmer} I wouldn't do this if there wasn't a way I could be here with you and the kids and get back on the wrestling trail at the same time.
Aaron leans back in his seat, as Clarissa smiles slightly at him.
-[AARON]-:
{Stoic} You know I promised you that when I stepped away.
-[CLARISSA]-:
{Calm} I know babe, and I trust you ... (I just hope I don't have to experience what happened inside the Torture cage again.)
Aaron smiles, pulling his hand back and placing the sheet atop his lap.
-[AARON]-:
{Thankful} I love you, Clarissa. Anything that would put us in jeopardy, I wouldn't do. Especially not if it put Miles or Zoe in danger.
Clarissa leans across the sofa, softly placing a kiss on Aaron's right cheek.
-[CLARISSA]-:
{Gently} I love you too.
FADE OUT.
[] FADE IN- Mansion. Tempe, Arizona.[]
OPEN to a room that appears to be an indoor cinema of sorts. Thirteen rows with 10 jet black leather seats within each one and a cinema-style LCD screen adorning the front wall <currently switched off>.
In the third row, atop the sixth seat in the row, sits Aaron <attired in a black suit with a white shirt and crimson red tie, black dress pants and black polished loafers>, smiling.
-[AARON]-:
{Charming} Hello APW. It's an honor to be able to sit here in front of you all today and be able to consider myself a member of your roster. {Sarcastically} One that I must say, is full of prestige.
Aaron flashes a "boy next door" smile.
-[AARON]-:
{Relaxed, Sarcastically} I mean, look at some of the names this roster has on it. Jason Ryan. A man who claims not to spout bullshit, but spews the same spiel about how he has money and how he is above everyone else. Marco Rusk. A "trillionaire" by the age of seventeen who flashes his money whenever he gets the chance to. Cray Mitchell. A supposed "gleeful guru" but of what? Nobody knows. Take his word for it, however.
{Serious, calm} Then we have the man who is slated to be my re-introduction to the ring. Vince Garza. A man who has been ostracized for his facial scarring due to a fire, that he feels the requirement to hide his disfigurement behind a porcelain mask. {Light-hearted} Well, let me just grab a violin to play for this depressing story.
Aaron pauses. Silence.
-[AARON]-:
{Cheekily} Oh wait. There is none, because as we all know: you actually have to be sorrowful in order to warrant a violin being played for you. People have to pity you. {Aggressively, stoic} I don't. To me, it's just another nameless being, attempting to invoke the sorrow and empathy of the fans by conjuring up a sad story. A dark past, where the world supposedly betrayed him due to his looks.
I've seen that story. That troupe has done all too many times before. It's as commonplace as the "I have money" persona. People who live in a fantasy world and do not even understand what truly encapsulates wealth.
{Calmly} I'll give you some needed advice. Those who actually have money and are used to having it, don't need to flaunt it. Or make themselves out to be a bigger deal because of it.
Aaron smiles, crossing his right leg over his knee.
-[AARON]-:
{Calmly} Do keep the charade going though. It humors me seeing children who have stumbled across a fortune for the first time showcase they have no idea of how to react. Much like Vince and his "woe is me" tale. Reminds me of a character from one of those C-Grade plays.
The ones where they had no other trait worth paying attention to, so focused on making them out to be this emotive human, cast aside by society. All in the hopes that it would tug on heartstrings.
{Firm} While it worked in those sorts of setting, that principle does not work in the ring.
Aaron smiles as he glares into the camera.
-[AARON]-:
{Firm, cold} Especially not when you're due to be stepping into the ring against me. I've portrayed the very same role you have in the past on Broadway productions. The likes of which you could only dream of performing in.
So I understand your psyche. I know that your tale is all you have to cling to. When it is taken away, you are but a husk. Empty and devoid of any way to find a connection. That is why you wrestle. That is why it's your escape.
Aaron leans forward.
-[AARON]-:
{Cold} That is why losing to El Muertos has shaken you. Just like it'll be why when the inevitable occurs and I leave you laying on the mat, you'll have nowhere to turn. Nothing to hold you together.
Aaron uncrosses his legs, as he pauses.
-[AARON]-
{Whispering} You'll devolve into the shell you had always been. {Calm} It won't take too long, I promise. I'll make it nice and painless too.
Aaron uncrosses his legs, pushing himself up as he walks to the tripod. Switching it off.
FADE OUT.
[]FADE IN- Hotel. Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.[]
OPEN to Room 109 at the Victorian Hotel. There's cream yellow colored nylon carpet lining the floor, a king sized bed on the right hand side of the room, with snow white plaster walls. A 32-inch Television screen, positioned atop a mahogany table about three feet in front of the bed and a small pine cabinet, with a lava lamp atop of it positioned between the bed and the wall.
Atop the bed, lays Aaron <Attired in a jet black wife beater, jet black gym shorts>, who has sweat running down him, having just gotten back from a session at the gym.
-[AARON]-:
(This is one thing I didn't miss about returning to the ring ...)
He lays back, allowing his breathing to steady as he turns to look at the Television <currently broadcasting a talk show>.
-[AARON]-:
{Calm} Have any of these talk show hosts ever researched their topics? Or do they just wing it and hope their editors can string something cohesive out of what they say? {Sarcastically} They'd make good wrestlers though, as a lot of people in this industry are the same way. They'll say things but have no idea of what they're actually talking about. Just hoping the fans find something relatable within their mountains of bullshit.
He laughs.
-[AARON]-:
{Blunt, Sarcastic} Just look at social media. I will say, at least it's a fun way to pass the time and at least provides an easy way to alleviate boredom. {Lightly} or insomnia. So it isn't without some value. Plus, it means I don't having to worry about breaking the heart of the emotionally fragile Vince Garza before Metal on Monday.
He reaches to the right hand side of his pillow, grabbing the remote ans changing the channel.
-[NEWS ANCHOR]-
{Calm} ... And in other news, former ZPW World champion Zack Longthorp was arrested today at his residance in Santa Clara, on suspicion of drug trafficing ...
Aaron raises his eyebrows hearing that name.
-[AARON]-:
{Surprised} Zack? Are they sure they got the right person? He's probably the last person I would associate with drugs. {Relaxed} It's not my problem anymore though.
CLICK! Aaron turns the Television off, sighing.
-[AARON]-:
{Gentle, firm} APW are in for the ride of their life. Let's see if there's anybody that can handle it. Otherwise, this rise to the top is going to be nothing more than academic. {Cold} Vince, this is another opportunity for you to prove you're more than judt a story. I doubt you can, but you can prove me wrong this week.
He winks.
-[AARON]-:
{Whispering, stoic} Don't waste it.
FADE OUT.
END SCENE.
-[VOICE]-:
{Calm} Clarissa! I need to tell you something.
OPEN to a moss green colored leather one-seat sofa, within a pristine lounge room. The room itself appears to have been cleaned within the previous three hours, as the smell of detergent still floats throughout the air and the slate white woollen floor appears to still be drying out. The scent of a lavender varnish is also emitting from the oak table situated about five feet in front of the sofa. Lending credence to the "recent cleaning" has occurred.
On the sofa, sits a masculine figure <Attired in a plain jet black shirt, denim jeans and jet black/neon yellow sneakers>, who holds an A4 sheet of paper in his left hand.
-[VOICE]-:
(They really want me to re-enter the ring?)
Slightly smiling, a feminine figure,<Attired in a tight-fitting hot pink tank top, black leggings and snow-white gym shoes> comes walking into the room. Taking a seat on the sofa about three feet to the male's left.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Relaxed} What is it, Aaron? {Thoughtful} Don't tell me it's another day trip form from Mile's school.
Aaron shakes his head.
-[AARON]-:
{Calm} No. {Relaxed, cautious} A company wants me to sign with them and return to wrestling.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Surprised} I thought you said you were finished with wrestling back in September. That you had nothing left to prove in the ring.
-[AARON]-:
(I thought I was too ...)
The female looks at Aaron, as he reaches out his arm to show her the paper.
-[FEMALE]-:
{Calmly} So, you're thinking of returning?
-[AARON]-:
{Softly} Yeah. I am, Clarissa. Honestly, you know that I was made for wrestling. That my vacation from the ring was never going to be permanent. I think we both realize that.
Clarissa looks at the letter, then at Aaron. Nodding her head slightly.
-[CLARISSA]-:
(I guess you're right there.) {Relaxed, soft} I was hoping that you leaving wrestling would enable us to have more family time. {Thoughtfully} Though you're right. I probably shouldn't have expected it would be permanent.
-[AARON]-:
{Gently} Don't worry. We'll still have our family time together. {Slightly firmer} I wouldn't do this if there wasn't a way I could be here with you and the kids and get back on the wrestling trail at the same time.
Aaron leans back in his seat, as Clarissa smiles slightly at him.
-[AARON]-:
{Stoic} You know I promised you that when I stepped away.
-[CLARISSA]-:
{Calm} I know babe, and I trust you ... (I just hope I don't have to experience what happened inside the Torture cage again.)
Aaron smiles, pulling his hand back and placing the sheet atop his lap.
-[AARON]-:
{Thankful} I love you, Clarissa. Anything that would put us in jeopardy, I wouldn't do. Especially not if it put Miles or Zoe in danger.
Clarissa leans across the sofa, softly placing a kiss on Aaron's right cheek.
-[CLARISSA]-:
{Gently} I love you too.
FADE OUT.
[] FADE IN- Mansion. Tempe, Arizona.[]
OPEN to a room that appears to be an indoor cinema of sorts. Thirteen rows with 10 jet black leather seats within each one and a cinema-style LCD screen adorning the front wall <currently switched off>.
In the third row, atop the sixth seat in the row, sits Aaron <attired in a black suit with a white shirt and crimson red tie, black dress pants and black polished loafers>, smiling.
-[AARON]-:
{Charming} Hello APW. It's an honor to be able to sit here in front of you all today and be able to consider myself a member of your roster. {Sarcastically} One that I must say, is full of prestige.
Aaron flashes a "boy next door" smile.
-[AARON]-:
{Relaxed, Sarcastically} I mean, look at some of the names this roster has on it. Jason Ryan. A man who claims not to spout bullshit, but spews the same spiel about how he has money and how he is above everyone else. Marco Rusk. A "trillionaire" by the age of seventeen who flashes his money whenever he gets the chance to. Cray Mitchell. A supposed "gleeful guru" but of what? Nobody knows. Take his word for it, however.
{Serious, calm} Then we have the man who is slated to be my re-introduction to the ring. Vince Garza. A man who has been ostracized for his facial scarring due to a fire, that he feels the requirement to hide his disfigurement behind a porcelain mask. {Light-hearted} Well, let me just grab a violin to play for this depressing story.
Aaron pauses. Silence.
-[AARON]-:
{Cheekily} Oh wait. There is none, because as we all know: you actually have to be sorrowful in order to warrant a violin being played for you. People have to pity you. {Aggressively, stoic} I don't. To me, it's just another nameless being, attempting to invoke the sorrow and empathy of the fans by conjuring up a sad story. A dark past, where the world supposedly betrayed him due to his looks.
I've seen that story. That troupe has done all too many times before. It's as commonplace as the "I have money" persona. People who live in a fantasy world and do not even understand what truly encapsulates wealth.
{Calmly} I'll give you some needed advice. Those who actually have money and are used to having it, don't need to flaunt it. Or make themselves out to be a bigger deal because of it.
Aaron smiles, crossing his right leg over his knee.
-[AARON]-:
{Calmly} Do keep the charade going though. It humors me seeing children who have stumbled across a fortune for the first time showcase they have no idea of how to react. Much like Vince and his "woe is me" tale. Reminds me of a character from one of those C-Grade plays.
The ones where they had no other trait worth paying attention to, so focused on making them out to be this emotive human, cast aside by society. All in the hopes that it would tug on heartstrings.
{Firm} While it worked in those sorts of setting, that principle does not work in the ring.
Aaron smiles as he glares into the camera.
-[AARON]-:
{Firm, cold} Especially not when you're due to be stepping into the ring against me. I've portrayed the very same role you have in the past on Broadway productions. The likes of which you could only dream of performing in.
So I understand your psyche. I know that your tale is all you have to cling to. When it is taken away, you are but a husk. Empty and devoid of any way to find a connection. That is why you wrestle. That is why it's your escape.
Aaron leans forward.
-[AARON]-:
{Cold} That is why losing to El Muertos has shaken you. Just like it'll be why when the inevitable occurs and I leave you laying on the mat, you'll have nowhere to turn. Nothing to hold you together.
Aaron uncrosses his legs, as he pauses.
-[AARON]-
{Whispering} You'll devolve into the shell you had always been. {Calm} It won't take too long, I promise. I'll make it nice and painless too.
Aaron uncrosses his legs, pushing himself up as he walks to the tripod. Switching it off.
FADE OUT.
[]FADE IN- Hotel. Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.[]
OPEN to Room 109 at the Victorian Hotel. There's cream yellow colored nylon carpet lining the floor, a king sized bed on the right hand side of the room, with snow white plaster walls. A 32-inch Television screen, positioned atop a mahogany table about three feet in front of the bed and a small pine cabinet, with a lava lamp atop of it positioned between the bed and the wall.
Atop the bed, lays Aaron <Attired in a jet black wife beater, jet black gym shorts>, who has sweat running down him, having just gotten back from a session at the gym.
-[AARON]-:
(This is one thing I didn't miss about returning to the ring ...)
He lays back, allowing his breathing to steady as he turns to look at the Television <currently broadcasting a talk show>.
-[AARON]-:
{Calm} Have any of these talk show hosts ever researched their topics? Or do they just wing it and hope their editors can string something cohesive out of what they say? {Sarcastically} They'd make good wrestlers though, as a lot of people in this industry are the same way. They'll say things but have no idea of what they're actually talking about. Just hoping the fans find something relatable within their mountains of bullshit.
He laughs.
-[AARON]-:
{Blunt, Sarcastic} Just look at social media. I will say, at least it's a fun way to pass the time and at least provides an easy way to alleviate boredom. {Lightly} or insomnia. So it isn't without some value. Plus, it means I don't having to worry about breaking the heart of the emotionally fragile Vince Garza before Metal on Monday.
He reaches to the right hand side of his pillow, grabbing the remote ans changing the channel.
-[NEWS ANCHOR]-
{Calm} ... And in other news, former ZPW World champion Zack Longthorp was arrested today at his residance in Santa Clara, on suspicion of drug trafficing ...
Aaron raises his eyebrows hearing that name.
-[AARON]-:
{Surprised} Zack? Are they sure they got the right person? He's probably the last person I would associate with drugs. {Relaxed} It's not my problem anymore though.
CLICK! Aaron turns the Television off, sighing.
-[AARON]-:
{Gentle, firm} APW are in for the ride of their life. Let's see if there's anybody that can handle it. Otherwise, this rise to the top is going to be nothing more than academic. {Cold} Vince, this is another opportunity for you to prove you're more than judt a story. I doubt you can, but you can prove me wrong this week.
He winks.
-[AARON]-:
{Whispering, stoic} Don't waste it.
FADE OUT.
END SCENE.
