I still had to focus on this Louis guy but something makes me want to search through all of Brooklyn to find this punk. But how much could I do? I’m obligated to wrestle in the ring, not start fights out of it. Not to mention, this is my father’s friend. Why? Why every little shit that my father got himself into during his time in the ring, I have to finish off for him? I’m tired of paying that old man’s dues and fighting his battles. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t even looked at Silkk for help. If it weren’t for him I don’t think K-Ny…Konvict, whatever he calls himself…whatever. Screw it. I am my father’s son and it’s just apart of my life I guess. I chose this path. I wouldn’t have been attacked if I were accountant so I know what I got myself into. This is my life, my decision, and I have to live with it. Not much else there is to it. I plan to end this once and for all, though. You’ll just have to wait and see how I do it.
Location: A Friend’s House, New York
Scenes opened up to MJ sitting alone watching television, the sound of rewinding is heard over and over again. He is wearing the All-American TAPOUT shirt with blue jeans and white sneakers. He looks like a man possessed as he continues to rewind over and over using the remote. His white Gucci glasses, folded and resting on his lap as his dark brown eyes stared at the television. He had to get on the plane for New Mexico tonight but there he was rewinding a video over and over again in the morning. He had rescheduled his classes and planned to take most of them in the rest of the week. He planned to see his father before he headed to La Guardia Airport. Right now he was over a friend’s house just re-watching one part of this damn promo. He still couldn’t get over it. He watched at the man he called the “mystery attacker” looked into the camera lenses with a sneer.
“Konvict: Back with a bang, baby…and ain’t no one safe. Believe that!”
If MJ had something to throw at the television, he would have. Trust me. Coming back with a bang, huh? MJ could only think of banging a baseball bat across the guy’s skull. He finally found out who the little shit that attacked him was but the more and more the days pass, the crazier this situation has become. MJ didn’t care though, if he had to send Silkk back home to Oklahoma in a wheel chair, that’s just what he would do. He was tired of the bullshit. Silkk bringing people out of incarceration or wherever Konvict’s pitiful life left him, Silkk seemed to be trying to pull out all the stops but he has yet to stop MJ before. MJ wasn’t planning on letting him do it now. MJ turned off the television after playing that line over numerous times. He grabbed his sunglasses and got up. Soon MJ’s friend, Aiden, came into the room. He looked over at the television and scratched his head.
Aiden: Are you done re-watching that crazy shit?
MJ: Yeah.
Aiden: Where you think you’re heading?
MJ: Home. I’m going to make my dad tell me why he didn’t open his mouth and say something about this guy instead of having me run around like a retard trying to play “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?” Screw that.
Aiden: What was he going to do? That’s his friend.
MJ: Fuck that! I’m his son!
Aiden: Chill, man. Just…when you talk to your dad, be calm. He is probably upset at this too.
MJ: Knowing him. He probably won’t give a shit.
He put on his sunglasses and headed through the door. MJ had never been so pissed with his dad but at the same time it was just him being pissed with himself. How could he not know? The guy was raised in the same state as him. He was right under his nose and couldn’t even figure it out. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He sat in his car, angry and embarrassed. He would make Silkk and Konvict pay later. Now it was time to see his dad about this. MJ sucked his teeth and drove off. He soon found himself storming into his house looking for his father’s whereabouts. He headed through the kitchen and living room, no signs of him. He walked into the office and there his father was typing up something on his laptop. Shorty looks up and smiles at MJ, which only makes him even angrier. He walks towards the desk while taking off his sunglasses and stares down at his father.
MJ: So, when were you going to tell me?
Shorty: Tell you what?
MJ: Don’t play stupid with me. You got your friend out there beating my ass and you said nothing? You think you’re cute cause you’re getting up their in age and becoming senile? Huh?
Shorty: MJ, calm down. I had my suspicions it was K-Nyne but I couldn’t have you go after the wrong man. Plus, you need to learn to fight your own battles. I can’t help you every single time.
MJ: Fight my own battles? Fight my own battles, huh? Listen here, old man, I’ve been fighting YOUR battle since I branched out on my own in SCW. I’ve been trying to restore YOUR honor by beating Silkk. So don’t tell me about fighting my own battles. I’ve been emotionally fighting since you were locked on drug dealing charges. I’ve been mentally fighting every time you put yourself in a predicament to get your ass beaten or you were messing around with other chicks while mom was watching it on TV. I’ve been fighting my own battles since forever and some of them against you so don’t play me for the fool. You didn’t exactly make it easy for mom and me when you were out on the road. Now all you could have done was to simply give me a heads up that this man might have been the one to attack me and you couldn’t do that could you? Because he’s your friend? Should I remind you I AM YOUR SON? I’m your flesh and blood. I’m…
Janice: ENOUGH MJ!
Silence quickly entered the room as MJ turned around to see his angered mother. She looked at him furiously; he hadn’t seen that look from her in a long while. He turned his head back to look at his father, who had his head down in shame trying to avoid eye contact with MJ. He couldn’t be bothered; he brushed past his mother and headed into his room. MJ had already packed since last night; he sat on the side of the bed with a scorned look on his face. He couldn’t help but flip out on his dad. The man, even if he didn’t know, had his suspicions. He could have as easily just let it roll off the tongue. A simple “hey you know I know a guy and it could be him” would have sufficed. No. The useless old bastard sat there and didn’t say a word in English about it. He rather let his own son be embarrassed and at a disadvantage then to sell out some useless street punk who shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as the rest of human society.
MJ: Can’t even fucking believe this shit…
Janice: MJ…
MJ: …
Janice: MJ!
MJ: …
Janice: MJ!!!
MJ: What?
Janice: You hear me calling you, you respond. Don’t say “What?” My name isn’t what.
MJ: Yeah, mom?
Janice: Let me tell you something right now. You ever blow up like that on your father again and you’ll be out of this house. Permanently.
MJ: Ha.
Janice: Oh you think it’s funny? You want to try me?
MJ: House. This family. I laugh at it all. What kind of father has an idea about the attacker of his son and keeps it to himself?
Janice: A father who wants to teach his son about responsibility.
MJ: Responsi…Responsibility? I’M A SELF-MADE MAN! You want to talk about responsibility? I’m the poster child of responsibility. I had to carry Syndicate Inc. on my back. I had to carry most teams I was on to victory. I am the most dependable self-reliable person I know in SCW. So for anyone to think they need to teach me responsibility is unfathomable.
Janice: This responsibility you have. Is it why you almost killed yourself as well as lost your title and turned against fans for a week? Is it also why you tend to leave for two months and come back causing you to lose any credibility or chance to win a title shot? Give me a break. You don’t know the meaning of it. Like everyone your age, you think you know everything and have everything figured out. You think you got it all figured out until life changes the questions on you and you’re back at square one. How dare you bring me into your argument? What goes on between your father and me stays between us. It’s not for you to bring up anything. Your father owes you nothing, stop with your silly “I’ve been through emotional and mental fights”. You don’t know what a true emotional or mental fight is all about. You’re blessed to have such a kind and giving father, you take him for granted and it’s sad.
She walked off and MJ still wanted to punch Shorty in the face, but he wanted to swing on his mother even more. She sits on her ass all day and does nothing, in his opinion. It’s what she has been doing since she got married. Now she has become the guru of what a fight is? This woman has never had to experience a true fight in her life and now she can tell a rookie wrestler like MJ that he doesn’t know a fight when he is in it. She was too much of a coward to admit she was hurt by Shorty’s antics when he was younger but MJ had no problem admitting it. MJ just didn’t give a damn anymore. Feeling cornered and betrayed by his own blood, how else could a guy feel? Betrayal can eat you alive. MJ was amazed that his parents acted as if this means nothing. He is locked in one of the most serious feuds of his career with Silkk and they think it’s time to play school and teach him things. He looked up and began to talk.
Shorty Jr.: I find it amazing how ignorant my parents are to what is going on with me. What is even more ignorant is some idiotic Irish guy named Louis Connelley. I hear through the grapevines he thinks I’m a sore loser. Lost what? The little four-leaf clover prick knows nothing. I was cheated out of it. Plain and simple. You can’t lose to someone who isn’t even in the match in the first place. I don’t jot that down as a loss, I jot that down as bullshit and cancel the validity of the Taking Hold of the Flame match. Louis needs to go back to singing because he doesn’t know the half of what I’ve been through. Someone should tell Louis if he’s going to run his mouth about ages, he should get his dates correct as I’m eighteen going onto nineteen soon. I’d be interested to see what Mr. Louis would have to say about my family. What is there to rag on that I haven’t heard in the past year I’ve spent in SCW?
It’s funny cause Louis was portrayed to me as some bad ass. Some guy who was crueler than Glacier and could say some hurtful things. From what I understand, he’s on the defensive mode and has me looking like the asshole. That’s pretty bad for a guy who was supposed to be cruel. How can you get defensive and weak against someone nicknamed “The Baby-Faced Assassin”? Embarrassing. It’s slightly depressing, no wonder why Glacier can’t stop complaining about the state of wrestling. It’s in its darkest days when a proclaimed “advocate for the fans” can be, unintentionally, made to look like an asshole by his opponent. But hey, Louis is new. He’ll find out where he fits, soon enough. Right down there with Chris Lawler and everyone else who has no clue to what they are doing in SCW. It’s unfortunate but if you act defensive and weak, just like on the streets, you will be chewed up and spit out in SCW. Those are the breaks, little man.
MJ scratches his head and got up then placed his sunglasses back on his face. He grabbed his duffle bag and suitcase then headed out the door. He had to head to New Mexico for his match against Connelly as well as deal with Silkk and Konvict. He wasn’t planning on letting Carrington get the last laugh. He wanted to put him down in the ground for good. MJ was no one’s play toy and things were going to go his way from here on in whether anyone liked it a lot. MJ on his worse day is still a decent threat, a pissed off focused MJ…heh, well…would leave most people breathless from his actions. From putting a steel chair to Damian Angel to hitting Glacier with the Basic Fundamentals. It didn’t matter to him. He was ready to do twice as bad to Silkk. Louis Connelley would just be an unfortunate victim. Only to be used to show MJ meant business. Silkk, watch Louis Connelley and see what you’re in for. Scenes fade away to black.
