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CR10: Mary Lynn Mayweather vs The Minstrel


Grandma Took Me Home
Jan 31, 2004
Mary Lynn Mayweather vs The Minstrel
Stipulation at Mayweather's descreation

Standard Rules Apply.

Deadline 8/26/12 11:59pm EST​

The Minstrel

League Member
Mar 6, 2012
Safety and Control

[A family sits in front of a television, mesmerized by what is entertaining them. The mother and the father, Maggie and Dan, sit on the dark blue couch behind the coffee table anxiously leaning forward. Maggie’s auburn hair rests upon her shoulders and flows down her back out of view. She is dressed in a black tanktop and a pair of shorts. Her hands are up at her face as her eyes follow what she is watching.]

[Dan is leaning further back than Maggie. His short brown hair is neatly cropped atop his head. He wears a grey t-shirt and a pair of shorts. His eyes trace the action and do not even move to meet the bottle of beer in his left hand as it moves towards his mouth.]

[The child, a slightly older, but still young Brandon sits on the floor Indian style, shifting with the movements on the television. He wears a grey Mickey Mouse shirt and a pair of black shorts.]

[Panning out, the television comes into view and immediately we recognize it as pro wrestling. As the two men fight, a close-up reveals that one of them is John McDonough. He is currently locked in a crossface submission and struggling to reach the ropes.]

Brandon: C’mon Uncle John!

[Maggie breathes heavily and leans back, frustrated, she looks at Dan and speaks in a whisper-soft voice.]

Maggie: Not good…

[Dan’s line of sight is unfazed.]

Dan: Why?

Maggie: The Hunter is slowing it down – he’s wearing John down.

[Dan nods his head and cheers as John manages to break the hold, forcing his way out of it.]

Maggie: C’mon John! Let’s get this going!

[John hits a kick to the midsection and drives The Hunter to the ground with a vicious DDT, the living room erupts.]

Maggie: HE’S GOT IT!


Brandon: COVER!

[John manages to crawl over exhausted and toss an arm over his opponent. The referee is in position.]


[All three manage to slam their hands down against either the furniture or the floor as the Hunter managed to escape defeat by kickout. There is momentary silence they struggle to their feet. All three return to their previous anxious poses almost simultaneously.]

Dan: Damn… Almost had ‘em.

[John gets to his feet first, but is clearly worn down while the Hunter appears to be only dazed. John takes a big roundhouse swing, which the Hunter ducks…]

Maggie: Uh oh…

[Maggie’s words are correct as John is left vulnerable and the Hunter manages to use John’s momentum to put him into a full nelson hold.]

Dan: Oh crap.

[The Hunter despite slight resistance locks in the hold and flips John over his head and releases. John folds like an accordion.]

Brandon: No! No! No!

[Brandon can be heard shouting desperately.]

[The Hunter staggers over still reeling from the DDT and covers.]

Maggie: Kick out.

[One, two.]

Maggie: KICK OUT!


[Brandon lies kicking and screaming on the floor – Maggie wanting to do something similar walks off the couch after putting her hand on her husband’s leg – signaling you take Brandon. She is just too upset for her brother at this point.]

[She walks to the right and out the front door – she steps out onto the porch into a mostly clear night. Her left hand rubs her temples feverishly.]

[Maggie lifts her head as the storm door closes. Her eyes are welling up with tears. She mutters to herself.]

Give him the strength. Please give him the strength.

[She intertwines her hands and closes her eyes as a tear falls down the right side of her face.]


[A creaking sound is heard as the storm door opens once again, but there is no sign of life as to the cause.]

[Fade out.]


[A moment passes.]


[Footsteps are audible from overhead as the picture comes into view. John McDonough stands at the bottom of a set of stairs calling upstairs to Brandon. Brandon appears at the top of the steps.]

Brandon: Yeah, Uncle John?

[John smiles at the sight of his nephew – it’s only an anxious half-smile.]

John: Come on down here.

[John is wearing a black t-shirt with “ENDURE” capitalized and printed across the chest in white lettering. He also wears a pair of brown/tan cargo shorts. His hair, showing signs of grey, is slightly mussed atop his head. He steps down from the bottom of the stairs and enters the living room, grabbing a seat on the couch.]

[Brandon enters the living room. He wears a plain white tanktop and pair of dark blue basketball shorts. He eyes his uncle carefully and grabs a seat on the recliner adjacent to his uncle on the couch.]

Brandon: What’s up?

[John looks up, a smile crosses his face.]

John: Not even going to let me beat around the bush, huh?

[Brandon returns the smile, but his eyes do not ease his focus.]

Brandon: You wanted to talk.

[John nods his head still eyeing his nephew carefully. He leans forward.]

John: Alright… As you know, I went to see your mother.

[Immediately, Brandon’s demeanor changes, he slouches back in the chair, his eyes still carry the same intensity, but now with an element of disdain. John pauses to allow this moment of displeasure to pass, but before he can speak again Brandon interjects.]

Brandon: I don’t want the update. I do not care.

[John nods his head understandingly.]

John: I know. I have respected your wishes regarding this up until now, no?

[Brandon looks away momentarily, biting on the inner part of his lip, and nods while turning his eyes back towards John.]

John: Right. So just trust me that this is necessary– not just an update…

Brandon: Okay.

John: When I went I spoke to your mother and also the doctors and it seems that she is on track to be released to a halfway house within the next few months and then into society in totality.

[Brandon just shakes his head.]

John: Why are you shaking your head?

Brandon: Because the woman is a delusional psychopath. Her release really eliminates any faith I had in the practice of psychiatry.

John: People get better.

[John’s voice is forceful and convincing, but Brandon smirks at this statement. He leans forward to make his next point.]

Brandon: Believe what you want. Now why are you telling me this?

John: Because after the halfway house, she’s going to need to live…

[Brandon holds his finger up, John is shocked by this.]

Brandon: If she sets one foot…

[John’s eyes narrow with anger.]

John: In my house!

[Brandon sits back, shaking his head.]

Brandon: Uncle John, I love you, but you’re making a BIG mistake.

John: So be it.

[John says rising, he crosses in front of the coffee table, eyeing his nephew.]

John: You’ve done remarkably well for yourself and turned into an excellent young man… But one day, something is going to take you to a very dark place…

[Brandon’s eyes are almost taunting his uncle with a playful look.]

John: And it’s other people… Other people that love you, that won’t give up on you that will push you through.

[Brandon has managed to contain his momentary smugness and refocus. He stands up and eases his way towards the stairs, where he turns towards his uncle.]

Brandon: Uncle John, I apologize for being angry…

[John nods his head to accept the gesture of apology.]

Brandon: But if I may say something…

John: Brandon, you can say whatever you want…

Brandon: I just want you to stew on this for a couple of days… No immediate reaction… Okay?

[John nods, his eager eyes growing frustrated with Brandon’s methodical prologue.]

Brandon: What if that person does not want to be saved…

[Brandon eyes his uncle to gauge his reaction and there is virtually none. John takes a step towards him.]

John: I’ll think about it…

[Brandon heads up the stairs as John walks back towards the couch.]

John: Jesus…

[Fade out.]

[Early evening, the sun is setting behind the structure that sits front and center, the King County Courthouse. The structure from the bottom of the steps is remarkable with architecture that is rich in definition, but also rigid and strong its appearance. The darkness is about half across the sky as the light blue, violet and orange retreat with the unseen, but setting sun.]

[Out from behind a pillar at the top of the steps appears the IWF’s most dangerous individual, the Minstrel. His attire is fitting with his black jacket covering his white shirt and black and grey striped tie. His pants and shoes match his jacket. In his hands, shifting back and forth is a slinky.]

Slinky, slinky, everyone loves a slinky!

[Sing-songing this memorable jingle, he allows the slinky to slide down the steps alongside him as he steps down towards the camera.]

Ah, Mary Lynn – is this a familiar sight?

Does it make you feel at home? Safe, secure within the confines of the laws and regulations of this great nation?

[He places his hand over his heart.]

I hope so, my dear. I really hope so.

Because if you can’t feel safe where you want to be – where can you feel safe?

And that’s really the question this weak – where does Mary Lynn Mayweather feel safest? Where does she feel most in control?

See Mary Lynn, I have a little secret… And Paz, I’ll let you in on this, too…

[He leans in a little bit and the camera zooms in.]

I don’t really think much of the whole safety and control thing…

[He whispers this as if he was actually telling a secret. Afterwards he leans back and chuckles to himself as he makes his way across the step, about two-thirds of the way down, where he has decided to stop.]

It’s all just an illusion.

I mean, Paz likes to think she has authority over me – likes to believe that she can actually cause me to panic.

[A gruff breath.]

Do I look like I am panicking, Paz?

[He puts his hands up to his face as if to be scared.]

Oh no, I’ve got to face a woman half my size in some sort of wrestling-themed contest! OH NO! What ever will I do?!

[The voice is extremely high-pitched and obnoxiously sarcastic.]

Please. And as to you…

[His voice returning to normal, he points at the camera as to single out…]

Ms. Mayweather, I don’t really think it matters what your matchup selection is… What your ideal terms are.

Because ultimately, you’ve got to go there with me…

[Pointing at himself.]

Where the streets have no name…

[A quick laugh to himself.]

And that is where comfort and safety go out the window.

When you are standing across from a man of my talents, my intelligence and my preference for pure, unadulterated, unfiltered violence, can you really feel safe?

[He turns to put on display the courthouse which he is now approximately centered with.]

Even with the laws, rules and God stacked in your favor… Would you still feel safe?

Indeed, all you have is just yourself and the terms of how to win and lose… And none of that can stop me from beating you within an inch of, or… Hell, over Courtney Allen’s current predicament!

And that Ms. Mayweather, as Ms Allen cannot attest, is no… laughing… matter…

[The Minstrel turns his back to the camera and puts his arms up in the air as if to hold the courthouse over his head.]

So tell me, my dear, do you feel safe? Do you feel in control?

[The Minstrel begins to sway back and forth.]

Or is your stomach starting flip like a…

Slinky slinky!

[The Minstrel turns and jumps down a few steps and takes off after the slinky, which has stopped at the bottom of the steps.]

[Fade out.]

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