TONY DAVIS (O.S.): He said poppy cock!
(FADEIN: The offices of the Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. Packed to the brim with bookcases and paper work, Jack Harmen and his brother-in-law Tony Davis are watching Waubash’s latest interview. Jack stands behind his desk wearing his old school Prime Straight jacket “Lunatic” baseball jersey open over his chest. He walks over to Tony Davis, who’s wearing a “Childish Gambino” home made t-shirt.
It’s a white Fruit of the Loom shirt with the word “Gambino” scrawled on it in sharpie.
Harmen frowns and smacks Davis in the back of his head.)
JACK HARMEN: Get the f*ck out of here.
(Davis pouts.)
TONY DAVIS: You used to find that hilarious.
(Reluctantly, Tony leaves the office. Harmen shakes his head and looks up to the security camera placed in the corner of his office.)
JACK HARMEN: My biggest concern right now is the lack of security at the Odessa Wrestling Dungeon. MARY!
(After a few moments, Mary-Lynn Mayweather peaks her head through the office door.)
JACK HARMEN: How exactly did Cameron Lee Waubash breach our security?
(Mary-Lynn frowns, looking away. As always, she’s wearing a trademark red skirt suit.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Uh…. You fired all of our security after the lice outbreak of ’08. Plus you were the last one out of here yesterday… so…
JACK HARMEN: So?
(Mary-Lynn narrows her eyes.)
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: So… it’s your fault.
JACK HARMEN: Pretty sure it’s never my fault. Listen. I want to upgrade security ASAP. I want electrified door knobs. I want anti-gravity fields. I want three security guards fitted with adamantium claws ready to Wolverine the next poor sucker who steps through those doors off hours. And, if we can fashion it, please turn my snow creation machine into a device that shoots lightning.
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Booby trapping your home or office to prevent break ins is technically illegal.
JACK HARMEN: Then why the f*ck didn’t they arrest Macaulay Culkin?
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: … That was a movie.
JACK HARMEN: Just get to it! Chop chop!
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: I could order a ten number coded security system with trip lasers.
JACK HARMEN: Do it.
(Mary nods, and exits the office. Harmen rolls his eyes.)
JACK HARMEN: So hard to find good henchmen these days.
(Harmen runs his hands through his hair and steps around his office desk. He takes a seat and rubs the bridge of his nose.)
JACK HARMEN: Cameron. (quickly)Cameron-Cameron-Cameron. (End quick speech) I thought I told you I was done listening to your pedantic tirades and your insuitably laughable insults? An ass out of you and umption? Really? That’s the BEST you can do? God you musta been on your fifth handle by the time you pretended to burn my gym down.
(Harmen sighs.)
JACK HARMEN: Listen, disregarding the fact that you were obviously trespassing, you were clearly publically intoxicated and may as WELL committed Second Degree Arson…
MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER(O.S.): THAT’S INCORRECT!
(Harmen growls, ignoring Mayweather.)
JACK HARMEN: You decided the best way to symbolically show the end of my vibrant career would be… what? To party foul on my concrete staircase with a homemade Molotov? GOOD JOB.
(Harmen gives Cameron a thumbs up.)
JACK HARMEN: That Jack Harmen, the man known as High Flyer, would one day die in a blaze is a fairly obviously assumption. I WILL die in a blaze of glory. But it will NOT be this week, this month, this YEAR! And when it DOES happen, I’ll be reborn like a phoenix. Stronger, smarter, and that much more dangerous.
(Harmen cracks his neck and stands from his desk.)
JACK HARMEN: But you and Sagawa do not decide when I supernova. But y’know Cameron, go ahead and try to ruin me. Better and worse men than you have tried. Cause even if my gym smolders to ash, even if my family treats me like a hooker on a street corner, I have the ONE thing that matters to me in this business. COMPETITION. Right in that squared circle. Oh. And the VIOLENCE. Can NOT forget the violence. Oh sweet sweet brutality.
(Harmen licks his lips.)
JACK HARMEN: You say actions speak louder than words, and yet, here you are, PRETENDING to burn my dungeon and then TALKING a big game about destroying me. Seriously? I mean, you should have just finished your little stunt with your fallen whisky comrade, burn this MOTHA FRAKER HOLE IN THE WALL DOWN.
(Harmen takes a deep inhale.)
JACK HARMEN: Listen, Waubash, you want to destroy me cause I remind you of your parents or something--I don’t know, it all stopped making sense when you started “WAH WAH WAH”-ing about poor little Cameron. But know that I want to destroy you because you are a modern day SLAVE owner. Keeping the fine if a bit unstable Freddy Sagawa on a LEASH, you’re playing a dangerous game. Cause Sagawa, like all lunatics, can NOT be contained by the sane. One day, Freddy will bite the hand that feeds him. And I can’t WAIT to see that day.
(Harmen shoves a bunch of papers off his desk, causing them to fall on the floor. Jack takes a seat on the edge of his desk.)
JACK HARMEN: So you want me to pick the stip? You really want me to make this a table match, a Japanese death match or a spin the wheel, make the deal match? Cause I’m going to swerve from the beaten path and choose an option YOU never envisioned.
(Harmen chuckles.)
JACK HARMEN: When I defeat Freddy Sagawa in round five of the Ultratitle tournament, you, Cameron Lee Waubash, are to have NO further contact with your rabid “weapon.” You will relinquish custody of your crazy slave into MY hands, where I will make sure that Sagawa’s unfiltered rage and violence is put to GOOD use. MY use. And over time, with some rehabilitation, perhaps Freddy Sagawa can one day go to a buffet and USE A FORK. My GOD man. What have you done to the kid? Just because you’re eating Soylent Green DOESN’T mean you can’t have TABLE MANNERS.
(Harmen smiles. He takes in a deep sigh.)
JACK HARMEN: And if Sagawa beats me?
(Harmen laughs.)
JACK HARMEN: And that’s a BIG if.
(Harmen hesitates.)
JACK HARMEN: If Sagawa beats me, I’ll let you burn my gym to the ground. Hell, you can move in and set up shop if you like the place. Maybe recruit some traumatized twelve year olds to gnaw at raw meat while you overdose in a pile of your own vomit. I DON’T CARE. But I’m willing to put up this gymnasium and the name I’ve carved over a decade of running this joint to make SURE that Freddy Sagawa becomes a friendly, civilized, lunatic.
(Harmen holds his head high, and smiles.)
JACK HARMEN: A “Downtown Abbey” cannibal.
(Harmen stands, and leans into his security camera so he’s framed in a close up.)
JACK HARMEN: And Sagawa. If you’re listening, and you understand English or language in general, KNOW, there are better ways to live your life than chained and caged as Cameron Lee WAH-*****es personal A-Bomb. When you find yourself chained to a radiator after you failed Cameron and lost to me, remember my offer to help you. While you watch me take on guys like Eli or Castor or Melton in the finals of the Ultratitle tournament, know that it was a man like CAMERON that held you back from your glory. When you see me raise the biggest trophy this sport has ever seen high above my head, watch my name etched into infinite infamy upon the Ultratitle’s frame… You should know Freddy, I’ll still be here to help you.
(Harmen smiles.)
JACK HARMEN: Cause we Lunatics gotta stick together, right?
(Harmen tilts his head back and cackles. His laughter echoes as the image fades to black.)