In many respects Thomas was a strong man. Physically he couldn’t lift
his own weight, but mentally he often moved mountains. Yet as strong as he was,
he wasn’t prepared for the drop.
The drop is every bit as dramatic as it sounds. For five thousands
dollars he bought a ticket on a replica version of the Titanic. The tag line,
catchy if not tasteless, caught him hook, line, and sinker. “Retrace and Win
Back History.” For five thousands dollars he’d put the ghosts of the
original failures on his back and take them safely to the other side. It’s where they
should have been eighty years ago, and the thought of finally taking them there
put an extra foot in his step.
Titanic version 2.0 made history. Sadly, Thomas’ money couldn’t see
to it that he made the complete journey. The ship was strong, and fearless as it
carved through the memories and delivered it’s patrons home. Stephen’s best
friend however, was mad and cruel.
They searched for days, until the party was called off, a logical
decision in the event of a man’s death. There was to be a funeral, and
surprisingly, a dedication of the breaking of a new ground, adjacent to
Merritt’s offices. The economy quickly took a turn for the worse.
Chad
said a prayer, begged for forgiveness, then ditched plans to immortalize his
peer.
A co-founder of the CSWA was assumed dead. Thanks to the drop, Thomas was
lost on a deserted island; for all practical purposes he was quite dead.
It’s been three years, but today a man... and a midget... have decided to
rewrite history.
“Amazing. I once tried to hang myself with this rope,” the midget
spoke softly. For years little people have dreamed of ruling the world, just his
luck at last they’d have their chance, albeit it a small one. The island was
his to govern well it might have been if Thomas hadn’t been a full three feet
his master.
“You tried? How hard exactly?”
“You had to bring that up didn’t you.”
“I hate to be lied to that’s all it is. You tried, please. Be honest
and admit your body weight wasn’t enough to do the job.”
As they finished tying the ends of a makeshift wooden raft together, Red
swore he’d die trying to escape rather than suffer on the island at the hands
of his oppressor.
“Look I didn’t ask to be stuck here with you, that’s for damn
sure.”
“Quit crying Red and give me your finger.”
“We’ve survived this long without a woman, I’m not about to...”
Thomas interrupted a second too late, “Just give it to me,” Steve tied a
neat bow around the stubby index finger.
“We’re burning daylight, it’s time to shove off.” Red hopped on
the craft believing he was about to be carted off. “I’m sorry kid.”
With a subtle bow Thomas racked a modestly sized rock against the back of
Red’s neck, dropping the midget to the sand like a tree in the forest that no
one would hear.
“Godspeed kid, I’ll come back for you I promise.” Thomas picked up
the tightly wound pieces of wood that he hoped would carry him back to the edges
of any society, and dove into the salty cold water. As he flew over the first
wave, the tyrannical laughter from the bottom of his soul pushed the escape pod
further and further away.
(CUTTO: Outside the Merritt Auditorium. There's two men standing by the 'back door' of the arena, where two men are standing, smoking cigarettes.
One is very passive, with a backwards baseball cap on, a worn overcoat, and sweatpants-shorts. He's got a beard and fairly long hair, and looks a tad chubby.
The other is wearing a knit "CSWA" cap, has much longer hair than the other, and is dressed in baggy jeans, a "King of the Slackers" T-shirt, and an orange jersey. He starts to dance, singing a song all the while.
"Flair, Troy, Flair, Troy.
Eddy Eddy Love, Mikey/Wolf the Randalls.
English Gent, Hornet's Kid, Miss-Hoo-Ters.
No, GUNS, No More Whining.
King Of Cool, Triple L, Triple L, If That Is, His Real Name.
Top Con-ten-der's-Match
Triple X and Wicked Sight
Southern gonna win? Adler gon' win.
Powers-Aho- For- the- Belt- And...."
(A pair of young kids come up to the two, looking around to make sure there's nobody watching.)
"Yo, Jay.... can we get a pair of tix?"
(The skinnier one looks back at the chubby one, then back at the pair of kids.)
JAY: "Fifty bucks, little man, put that cash in my hand. If that money doesn't show then ya owe me-owe me- owe.
(The kids look at him as he begins to do another little dance.)
JAY: "O-E-O-E-O, Anniversary. O-E-O-E-O, Jungle Love."
(CUTTO: The CS Enterprises office buildings,
specifically, Merritt's private office. Three hours to showtime.)
(Merritt is sitting at his mahogany desk. Someone
is in the high-backed guest chair on the other side of the desk, their entire
body concealed by the back.)
CM: While it's good to see you here again, you do
understand what a difficult position this whole scenario puts me in, don't you?
???: I do, and believe it or not, I am
sorry. But you know what happened, and you know that I wasn't exactly in the
best position at the time. Especially considering what's happening now, I think
it's time to make it official.
CM: That's all well and good, but it doesn't make
much sense to do it tonight. You know what match he's in, and you know that I
can't allow you at ringside for it.
???: I'm not here for him, don't worry.
CM: I'm afraid I also have to bar you from going
anywhere near 'you know who' as well. This is an important show for the CSWA's
future, and while I can't think of anything better right now than to renew your
old contract, I've gotta look at the big picture as well.
???: Don't worry, Chad. I'm the level-headed one,
remember? Besides, I'm not here for either one of them.
CM: Level-headed? You? I'll believe it when I see
it.
???: If you hand me that contract for my John
Hancock, I guarantee you that you'll see it tonight.
(Merritt slides a piece of paper across his desk,
along with a pen. It's returned to him along with a CD-R.)
CM: What's this?
???: New music. I'd have given it to Marvin but I
think you remodeled this place since the last time I was here.
CM (With a chuckle): No problem, I'll get this to
the right people.
(The figure gets up and walks toward the door.)
CM: By the way?
???: Yeah?
CM: Welcome home.
(The doors close. Merritt looks at the CD in his
hands, and begins to chuckle again.)
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