Post by harvey on Feb 8, 2021 21:10:10 GMT -5
Harvey Marx is seen in profile in a dark space. Even with so little light coming only from a series of monitors, it is clear that he is not dressed for the stage. He is wearing a black turtleneck shirt and jeans. He's wearing headphones with a microphone built in, surrounded by switchboards, a couple of laptops and other equipment. He is silent for a moment and there is a look of both concentration and disapproval on his face. His hand hovers over one of the boards and then onto a few switches. Sliding up and one, down on the two next to it, and then hitting a key on a laptop.
Harvey: That's what I like! Looks like we fixed that audio bug. I’m coming in. Frank, I'll see you back on the ramp. Everyone else stand by.
*Harvey exits a bus parked next to the warehouse. The camera cuts inside. A mock up of the Monday Night Metal set is seen from a high, wide shot. Frank stands at the top of the entrance ramp. Three men are huddled around a dangerous looking octagonal contraption in the ring and there are tools on the canvas all around them. Leo is sitting at ringside near a rack where about it dozen jackets in a variety of colors hang. She's off in her own world, as if reading secret messages on the garments. Harvey struts in like he owns the place. (He just might.)*
Harvey: Good work people! Perfect! We're going to run it again with a few changes for the smaller venue. Lighting….
New Guy: *interrupting* We've been here three hours. Why didn't you say anything before?
*Harvey turns around quickly, annoyed*
Harvey: Come on Bor… Hey, you're not Boris…..Anyway those were the equipment checks. Now we tell the story. Trust the process…Where is Boris, anyway? I don’t know why I ever ask. Just get him back here for showtime!
*The rest of the crew smiles and nods, the new guy rolls his eyes. Harvey continues, addressing the whole room. *
H: Lighting…. We’re only using every other row above the entrance ramp, and at fifty percent intensity. I want shadow. A long, dark walk to the ring. We're selling danger here.
*A woman sitting at an equipment station to Harvey's left nods, the length of the ramp is now dimly tinted red.*
Yes! Now for sound. It may be Monday Night Metal, but the crowd is going to have to wait to wait to rock out until after we do our thing. Keep the music low for the opening, and we'll do the whole illustration in silence. The only thing I want people hearing is the sound of the fire. If they can hear and feel it, it'll be easier for everyone to imagine being in the cage themselves.
*Harvey turns to face the new guy behind him*
That leaves pyro. Go bigger. Can you handle that?
*the man smiles for the first time all day*
Good. Get the fountains near the ramp ready to go. Guard rails too. We're doing the full program this time.
*Harvey gives him a folded piece of paper and gestures to the ring.*
Just a few adjustments for the cage.
*The short-lived smile fades, The man groans and turns away. He stomps off toward the ring muttering angrily. Harvey's jaw is tense and he stares at the man's back for a moment. Harvey walks over to the entrance ramp. Frank is standing just in front of the curtain*
Frank the Apprentice: I know it was just an equipment check, but I just couldn't get the timing right anywhere. Especially the entrance.
Harvey: Good to be aware, Frank. You were too fast all three times. Don't chase the fire to your positions. The audience needs to believe you control it Slow down by about half a count and you’ve got it.
Frank: Yes, sir.
*One of the men working on the ring contraption approaches Harvey from behind. There is a look of concern on his face.*
Crewman: Sir, we can't place the torches that tight. It won't be safe. You're…. Well…. You’re just too damn big for it.
H: You're absolutely right. Yes I am. *turning to Frank* But it'll be just right for him.
*The bustling room is stunned into silence as the crew tries to process what just happened. Leo's brain catches up first. We hear the sound of her chair turning a little too quickly on the concrete floor*
Leonora: Do you want to tell us what you're thinking? What is this?
H: His opportunity. I have to focus on one of my own this week. Just keeping you all on your toes.
*Harvey turns to the man at the pyro station*
H: Sorry about the long day. I can get a little intense. Just do your job. Remember, nobody lights Frank on fire but me!
Frank: Seriously, bro. It’s in my contract.
Leo: *hushed* We don’t talk about that.
Harvey: Come with me, Leo
*Leo and Harvey go into a small office. Frank recovers from his shock and can be heard barking orders as Harvey closes the door. *
H: You don’t think he's ready?
L: We both know he is. But your timing sucks. We're talking about APW and Netflix. A worldwide audience every week. I don't have to tell you what this could do for us. And you're gonna give them FRANK?
H: I’m giving them a Big Ticket Entertainment production. The kid is one of us. You guys can handle one illusion but the wrestling has to be on me. If I don't handle my business in the ring, we won't be here next week. I lost my first match. I’ll never stop playing to the crowd, but I have to better. There aren't a lot of chances to make up for coming out flat on opening night. I have one. Against a champion, no less.
L: A non-title match. You haven't been a junior heavyweight in a very long time.
H: The man matters more than the belt.
L: But you like shiny things.
H: I really do.
L: We’ll take care of the performance, Sir. I’ll have Boris do all the pyro manually. Frank won’t need to worry about timing. Boris lives to push the “Boom” button anyway.
H: He really does. Get the camera. I’ve got a few words for Mr. Scott.
*Scene fades for a moment. We see Harvey in the raw black and white of an old video camera*
***
Alex Scott is having a hell of run. He’s been going strong in APW for over a year. He's won the Junior Heavyweight Championship 2 times, wearing the belt even now. He's a phenomenal athlete, a great competitor and a man on a mission. He's strong, he’s fast, he's pretty, and he's not afraid to get hardcore. Just imagine how dangerous he could be if he ever stopped whining.
You took last week off to rest your tired, aching body. There isn't a man or woman in the locker room who isn't hurting . That's what we do. We take it, we dish it out, and we move on to the next show. That's what people pay to see. Dozens of people sacrifice their bodies, and Alex Scott is the only one I hear complaining.
Alex, you're the dumbass who keeps signing up for insane hardcore matches, getting hit in the head with trash cans and slammed on concrete, and then you want everyone to give you a cookie for taking a beating? there's a difference between toughness and poor life decisions. And that thing you’ve been struggling to carry lately isn't the company. It's just your ego…
Before I say anything more about Alex Scott's ego, I should say that I have been known to seek my share of attention. For the past eleven years I have gone on stage dressed like a power ranger at Cinderella's ball and made a living convincing people I have supernatural powers. I understand why you crave, even need the spotlight. But you want it all to yourself. There's nobody holding you accountable. That's your real problem .
When I told my crew I wanted to join APW, they could have laughed. They could have told me I was out of my mind. They didn't. They believed in me enough to risk it all to take this ride. There's a kid out there barely old enough to drink. He's getting ready to stand in the middle of eight flamethrowers Monday night, so I can give you the kind of attention your ability deserves and the kind of beating your mouth deserves. Why would he do that? Because of two things you don't have, Alex, loyalty and balls. I'm fighting for a whole bus full of people like that, Alex. If I go home, so do they. That's not an option.
I’m happy you seem to have an interest in illusion, Alex. Making someone disappear is just a little misdirection. Get them looking right, and then go left. Simple. Well, maybe that's not simple enough for YOU, Alex. That's ok. I'll draw you a picture later, buddy.
I know I'll have to answer for not being a rookie for a while longer. I haven't finished paying my dues. People want me to stay in my own lane. It is what it is, and I’m going to keep working, Alex. If you want to come at me for being a joke and a pretender, that's fine. But you should have had the sense to leave the cute magic metaphors to a professional.
Now I’m not above indulging in a little cheesy magic humor, and I’d like to before I go. But I’m not allowed to do that without Frank. Seriously, it's in his contract.
*Frank comes through the door and stands next to Harvey. He opens his palm and shows a balloon to the camera, he is grinning like a lunatic*
H: Alex Scott, tonight I’m going to twist you every which way and make you beg for mercy!
*Frank blows up the balloon and makes it into the shape of a giraffe. He presents it triumphantly to Marx. We see “Alex” already written on the neck with a sharpie. Harvey snatches the giraffe, throwing it over his shoulder as he walks right up to the camera.*
H: Yeah, it doesn't scare me when you do it either, Scott. I have something better in mind for the match. Get ready, my friends. The Big Ticket doesn’t disappoint
*Harvey turns off the camera. The screen is a snowstorm. Fade*
Harvey: That's what I like! Looks like we fixed that audio bug. I’m coming in. Frank, I'll see you back on the ramp. Everyone else stand by.
*Harvey exits a bus parked next to the warehouse. The camera cuts inside. A mock up of the Monday Night Metal set is seen from a high, wide shot. Frank stands at the top of the entrance ramp. Three men are huddled around a dangerous looking octagonal contraption in the ring and there are tools on the canvas all around them. Leo is sitting at ringside near a rack where about it dozen jackets in a variety of colors hang. She's off in her own world, as if reading secret messages on the garments. Harvey struts in like he owns the place. (He just might.)*
Harvey: Good work people! Perfect! We're going to run it again with a few changes for the smaller venue. Lighting….
New Guy: *interrupting* We've been here three hours. Why didn't you say anything before?
*Harvey turns around quickly, annoyed*
Harvey: Come on Bor… Hey, you're not Boris…..Anyway those were the equipment checks. Now we tell the story. Trust the process…Where is Boris, anyway? I don’t know why I ever ask. Just get him back here for showtime!
*The rest of the crew smiles and nods, the new guy rolls his eyes. Harvey continues, addressing the whole room. *
H: Lighting…. We’re only using every other row above the entrance ramp, and at fifty percent intensity. I want shadow. A long, dark walk to the ring. We're selling danger here.
*A woman sitting at an equipment station to Harvey's left nods, the length of the ramp is now dimly tinted red.*
Yes! Now for sound. It may be Monday Night Metal, but the crowd is going to have to wait to wait to rock out until after we do our thing. Keep the music low for the opening, and we'll do the whole illustration in silence. The only thing I want people hearing is the sound of the fire. If they can hear and feel it, it'll be easier for everyone to imagine being in the cage themselves.
*Harvey turns to face the new guy behind him*
That leaves pyro. Go bigger. Can you handle that?
*the man smiles for the first time all day*
Good. Get the fountains near the ramp ready to go. Guard rails too. We're doing the full program this time.
*Harvey gives him a folded piece of paper and gestures to the ring.*
Just a few adjustments for the cage.
*The short-lived smile fades, The man groans and turns away. He stomps off toward the ring muttering angrily. Harvey's jaw is tense and he stares at the man's back for a moment. Harvey walks over to the entrance ramp. Frank is standing just in front of the curtain*
Frank the Apprentice: I know it was just an equipment check, but I just couldn't get the timing right anywhere. Especially the entrance.
Harvey: Good to be aware, Frank. You were too fast all three times. Don't chase the fire to your positions. The audience needs to believe you control it Slow down by about half a count and you’ve got it.
Frank: Yes, sir.
*One of the men working on the ring contraption approaches Harvey from behind. There is a look of concern on his face.*
Crewman: Sir, we can't place the torches that tight. It won't be safe. You're…. Well…. You’re just too damn big for it.
H: You're absolutely right. Yes I am. *turning to Frank* But it'll be just right for him.
*The bustling room is stunned into silence as the crew tries to process what just happened. Leo's brain catches up first. We hear the sound of her chair turning a little too quickly on the concrete floor*
Leonora: Do you want to tell us what you're thinking? What is this?
H: His opportunity. I have to focus on one of my own this week. Just keeping you all on your toes.
*Harvey turns to the man at the pyro station*
H: Sorry about the long day. I can get a little intense. Just do your job. Remember, nobody lights Frank on fire but me!
Frank: Seriously, bro. It’s in my contract.
Leo: *hushed* We don’t talk about that.
Harvey: Come with me, Leo
*Leo and Harvey go into a small office. Frank recovers from his shock and can be heard barking orders as Harvey closes the door. *
H: You don’t think he's ready?
L: We both know he is. But your timing sucks. We're talking about APW and Netflix. A worldwide audience every week. I don't have to tell you what this could do for us. And you're gonna give them FRANK?
H: I’m giving them a Big Ticket Entertainment production. The kid is one of us. You guys can handle one illusion but the wrestling has to be on me. If I don't handle my business in the ring, we won't be here next week. I lost my first match. I’ll never stop playing to the crowd, but I have to better. There aren't a lot of chances to make up for coming out flat on opening night. I have one. Against a champion, no less.
L: A non-title match. You haven't been a junior heavyweight in a very long time.
H: The man matters more than the belt.
L: But you like shiny things.
H: I really do.
L: We’ll take care of the performance, Sir. I’ll have Boris do all the pyro manually. Frank won’t need to worry about timing. Boris lives to push the “Boom” button anyway.
H: He really does. Get the camera. I’ve got a few words for Mr. Scott.
*Scene fades for a moment. We see Harvey in the raw black and white of an old video camera*
***
Alex Scott is having a hell of run. He’s been going strong in APW for over a year. He's won the Junior Heavyweight Championship 2 times, wearing the belt even now. He's a phenomenal athlete, a great competitor and a man on a mission. He's strong, he’s fast, he's pretty, and he's not afraid to get hardcore. Just imagine how dangerous he could be if he ever stopped whining.
You took last week off to rest your tired, aching body. There isn't a man or woman in the locker room who isn't hurting . That's what we do. We take it, we dish it out, and we move on to the next show. That's what people pay to see. Dozens of people sacrifice their bodies, and Alex Scott is the only one I hear complaining.
Alex, you're the dumbass who keeps signing up for insane hardcore matches, getting hit in the head with trash cans and slammed on concrete, and then you want everyone to give you a cookie for taking a beating? there's a difference between toughness and poor life decisions. And that thing you’ve been struggling to carry lately isn't the company. It's just your ego…
Before I say anything more about Alex Scott's ego, I should say that I have been known to seek my share of attention. For the past eleven years I have gone on stage dressed like a power ranger at Cinderella's ball and made a living convincing people I have supernatural powers. I understand why you crave, even need the spotlight. But you want it all to yourself. There's nobody holding you accountable. That's your real problem .
When I told my crew I wanted to join APW, they could have laughed. They could have told me I was out of my mind. They didn't. They believed in me enough to risk it all to take this ride. There's a kid out there barely old enough to drink. He's getting ready to stand in the middle of eight flamethrowers Monday night, so I can give you the kind of attention your ability deserves and the kind of beating your mouth deserves. Why would he do that? Because of two things you don't have, Alex, loyalty and balls. I'm fighting for a whole bus full of people like that, Alex. If I go home, so do they. That's not an option.
I’m happy you seem to have an interest in illusion, Alex. Making someone disappear is just a little misdirection. Get them looking right, and then go left. Simple. Well, maybe that's not simple enough for YOU, Alex. That's ok. I'll draw you a picture later, buddy.
I know I'll have to answer for not being a rookie for a while longer. I haven't finished paying my dues. People want me to stay in my own lane. It is what it is, and I’m going to keep working, Alex. If you want to come at me for being a joke and a pretender, that's fine. But you should have had the sense to leave the cute magic metaphors to a professional.
Now I’m not above indulging in a little cheesy magic humor, and I’d like to before I go. But I’m not allowed to do that without Frank. Seriously, it's in his contract.
*Frank comes through the door and stands next to Harvey. He opens his palm and shows a balloon to the camera, he is grinning like a lunatic*
H: Alex Scott, tonight I’m going to twist you every which way and make you beg for mercy!
*Frank blows up the balloon and makes it into the shape of a giraffe. He presents it triumphantly to Marx. We see “Alex” already written on the neck with a sharpie. Harvey snatches the giraffe, throwing it over his shoulder as he walks right up to the camera.*
H: Yeah, it doesn't scare me when you do it either, Scott. I have something better in mind for the match. Get ready, my friends. The Big Ticket doesn’t disappoint
*Harvey turns off the camera. The screen is a snowstorm. Fade*
