DAMN WOMEN

Scenes open up as we see two white men wrestling in a brand new state of the art gym. They are wrestling in a new ring. One of them is I and the other is my brother. He flew down to Cleveland to talk to me about the divorce case…and chill out. We had been wrestling for the last five minutes. I swung him across the ring then bent over to hit him with the backdrop but he kicked me in the stomach then hit me with a DDT. He quickly got up and began to stomp away at me. He then picked me up and tried to hit a suplex but I blocked it then countered with my own. I got up but then I heard something eerie similar to my entrance music. I realized it was my ring tone but ignored it. I turned around then ducked a kick to the head from Mark. I quickly capitalized with a knee to his gut. He holds his stomach, almost out of breathe, and with forms a T with his hands signaling for a time out. I patted him on the back and left the ring to check my phone.

Anthony: Guess who called?

Mark: …Who?

Anthony: Harry Douglas, my lawyer. Let me go call him.

Mark: …yeah…you…go…do…that.

I laughed, as I knew I had my brother knocked out from all the wrestling. I wondered what my lawyer could be calling me for. I wasn’t even sure. I knew it was about the divorce, obviously but what information did he have. I should have gotten that damn pre-nuptial! Oh well, it’s too late to make a sob story out of it. I went down my contact list and pressed the little green button and it began to call him. I hope he wasn’t busy cause any information about this divorce is important even if it’s about Ashley digging her nose. It doesn’t matter. I needed to come out of this as clean as possible. I want to keep my money and be able to see my kids every other weekend. I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face. Mark gives me a run for my money, definitely. Soon I heard a deep voice at the other end of the cell phone and I knew it was him. I quickly rubbed my head and began to talk.

Anthony: Hey, Douglas, you called. What’s going on with the case?

Douglas: We’re going to have to meet in New Jersey. I just wanted to inform you when you come to New Jersey; before you wrestle your match…we need to meet. I don’t feel comfortable talking to you over the phone, you know that already Anthony. So we’ll meet when you get home, all right?

Anthony: All right.

Douglas: We’ll talk later.

Anthony: Definitely.

I scratched my head and ended the call. I wasn’t sure what to make of what he wanted to tell me. Is it that serious he couldn’t even mention the basics over the phone? I was just in disbelief. I wish I had a bread cause I’d be stroking it while thinking of what the hell to do right now about this. I got so many things on my plate it’s not even funny. I could only think about was how much havoc this divorce is going to reek on my life. I don’t even want to BEGIN to think how much problems it’s going to put on Anthony Jr. and Xavier. I saw Mark out of the corner of my eyes looking at me with a big of concern. I know he cares but I really don’t want him in this. It was too late; he was already heading my way with the look of a puppy that just got lectured for pissing all over the carpet. I couldn’t bear to see his face like that…damn him. He took a seat next to me.

Mark: What’s going on, man?

Anthony: Life. The lawyer called and said we have to meet before my match. He sounded concern and it has me thinking the worst. I just hope everything is cool but I know without that pre-nuptial agreement I’m fucked. Maybe she will think back on how good I’ve made her life and not take my money? Maybe she’ll have a heart and not take me for every cent I have? What are the possibilities of that? I mean, I have never abused her…physically, mentally, verbally, or emotionally. Well she probably thinks I’ve hurt her emotionally but still…she has to know I never meant to do that to her. She knew the deal when she married me. She knew I was going to be out here wrestling my ass off. She knew I loved wrestling more than life itself. Ah, who the fuck am I fooling? She is going to rob me like a crack head in a dark alley. Why me? What did I do to deserve this shit? I worked my ass off to make the best for them and this is she does to me?

Mark: Are you done whining?

Anthony: Not really but if you have a better suggestion…

Mark: Do you know who Ashley’s lawyer is?

Anthony: No.

Mark: Bette Porter. She is the most vicious lawyer you can get. She makes murderers look like small girls in short pink skirts with pigtails. I’m telling you…this girl will rip you five ways before you even step foot into the court room. Ashley is dead serious, Anthony. I suggest you do something quick before you and your lawyer get eaten. You may need to sweet talk Ashley or something cause things aren’t looking too good. They’re taking about keeping the house, no chance of visitation, and other shit. Better’s a lesbian so you know that she is going to be even harder on you. I’m not telling you to kiss ass…but shit; I’d do it if you heard all the crap I heard. They plan to do to you in court what would be considered inhumane to do to a serial child rapist. I’m not trying to scare you but damn things are not looking too well for you in the least bit. Gang Rulz couldn’t come at a better time.

Anthony: Not trying to scare me? Good job. Ugh.

Mark: Chill, man. Just get to Jersey to hammer things out. I know you’re upset but handle your match against Sam Stewart before you start losing your mind.

Anthony: Look, I don’t even want to think of Martha Stewart’s brother…

Mark: He’s not Martha…

Anthony: Oh whatever the hell he is…I’m not even trying to think about some Majestic punk.

Mark: You need to. You can’t afford another loss going into Gang Rulz.

Anthony: True but now that you told me about this Porter woman, my stomach muscles are tightening like I’m throwing up. Hell, I feel that throwing up. I can’t even imagine what the hell goes through these lesbian lawyers mind. What do I have to do to find out? Call Sarah Punche? I don’t think Douglas is in the position to fight someone who would cut off our testicles without any hesitation. Where the hell is Johnnie Cochran? Wait…damn. Why did his ass have to die before my divorce? Damn him for not holding on longer. Either way, this is going to be another headache. See what this stress is doing to me? Knocking off years in my life. Because of this damn Better Porter I’ll only live to see 63 instead of possibly 83. Damn these overzealous penis-hating women! They only cause trouble and aren’t even useful enough to keep around. I hate this crap. Why me?

Mark: Hold on, I hear my phone ringing.

Anthony: Wife?

Mark: Most likely so.

Anthony: Watch out, man…she might have a penis-hating lawyer recording the phone conversation.

Mark: Ha-ha.

Anthony: I’m serious!

I looked on as Mark hustled to his gym bag and unzipped it. He took out his cell phone and flipped it open. From the soft tone he was using, I knew he was talking to his wife. If it weren’t for the fact I was a red blooded American male, I’d write women off forever. They get on my nerves and if you lay one finger on them you’re looked at worse than a pedophile. If they somehow find you annoying, they can bitch slap you without any bad consequences. I could only stare at the wall. I knew I had a match against Steward but how could I think about wrestling when my wife and her vicious little lawyer were looking to pull not only the rug from underneath me…they planned to remove the tiling…foundation…everything. Without a pre-nup, that’s exactly what they will do. I could only imagine the smirk across that lawyer’s face when court time would come. I could only imagine. Scenes fade away to black.