time: thursday, early morning

day: february seventh.

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; engel residence.

(Crunch. Crunch. Alexia and I are sitting down to a delicious meal of Fruit Loops. Both of us have our heads almost buried in our bowls, chowing down on breakfast to get a good start on the day. Although I may not be her biological father, we do happen to have a lot of similarities. Alexia is in her usual pink pajamas and I'm sitting there in gym shorts and a white tank, with a black robe thrown over for comfort. I have to fly out later today to LaGuardia Airport in New York City for Rampage. It's only about twenty miles from the arena, thank you Google Maps.)

(I like to spend as much time with my family as I can before I leave for a few days. I have a habit of leaving a day earler and staying a day late for prep and recovery. You never know what can happen in the ring and I find it better to stay an extra day in case I need immediate treatment. Can you imagine being banged up and having to take a plane ride home? That isn't fun. I look up to find Alexia sipping down the remnants of her milk. She makes a bit of a slurping sound, puts her bowl down, and looks at me. I crack a smile, almost a laugh. She smiles back.)

(And...maybe I'd like to spend the day after in the Big Apple. It's always an adventure through that city.)

(Alexia puts her bowl and spoon in the sink and walks upstairs, getting ready for school. I finish off my bowl as well, cleaning the dishes and putting them back in their respective places. Suddenly, I hear a knock at the door. I check my watch: seven in the morning. I go to the front door and open it.)

(A familiar face. A face I haven't seen in almost five years.)

VIRUS: Warren! You son of a bitch. You finally decided to come see your older, better-looking brother after all these years. How the hell have you been? Come in, come in.

(A shyer, more introverted reflection of myself comes through the door. He's dressed in blue denim jeans, a tight black Miller High-Life shirt, and still with the ridiculous spiked hair. I never got into the style. It seems to work for him, though, as he removes his black Oakley's. I take his bag for him and tell him to have a seat in the kitchen. I put his bag in the living room and join him at the table.)

VIRUS: What's up man? What's with the random drop-in? Hey -- you're not in trouble, are you?

(Warren shoots me a look.)

WARREN: No, man. I'm not in trouble. (I give him a look of disbelief.) With the law or with anyone else, I'm straight. I'm down here because...well...you know.

(I get up for a moment and go to the frigde; I get two bottles of water.)

VIRUS: No, I don't. Enlighten me.

(I hand him the water and sit back down.)

WARREN: Life can be, funny sometimes. Things didn't work out. I have no place to stay. I have no job. Basically, I have no money. I'm here because I need one of those three things and that's a roof over my head. I understand if you don't want company so I can go at any time. I'm used to wandering.

VIRUS: I'm your brother, man. I'm not going to throw you out on the streets. You left us, remember? We didn't know why at first, but we eventually figured it out. And that's cool. You kept in contact with mom and dad, so Joe, Enika, and I didn't worry. You remember your sister, don't you?

WARREN: Of course.

VIRUS: Well she's out on her own right now, doing her thing. You know? Once she gets a taste of reality, like you did, the wiser she'll be. So, whether or not you succeeded in what you wanted to do doesn't matter to me. You tried, you went out on your own, with absolutely no money or any prospects. I heard about your amateur boxing career. While short-lived, you were undefeated. Correct?

WARREN: Yes. Fifteen and zero...with ten knockouts.

VIRUS: That's impressive. So you tried, man. Don't get down on yourself because you went out there and tried. You never know what's on the horizon. Maybe you'll catch your break in professional boxing. Listen, I know it's not my business, but amateur boxing pays small potatoes. You had a job, didn't you?

WARREN: Yeah, I was managing a restaurant. Well, assistant manager.

VIRUS: And what happened?

WARREN: I was fired.

VIRUS: Because?

 (He hesitates. This is just like him. He never lets you in. He sets up his proverbial walls and you'd need a wrecking ball just to get through.)

VIRUS: If you're going to be staying with me, you need to open up and tell me things.

WARREN: I...I flipped out on a customer, okay? She wanted a goddamn meat-lover's pizza and when I handed it to her, she finally told me she didn't want bacon on it! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with her?! Of course there's bacon on it! I had already experienced a bad enough day that day and that was just the last straw.

So, instead of making her a new one, I took her old one and threw it at her.

And I was fired.

(I sit back in my chair, trying my best not to laugh.)

WARREN: It's not funny, Matt.

VIRUS: I know, I know. I-I... (I start to laugh. Warren rolls his eyes at me.) I'm sorry Warren! I just can't help it. You threw her pizza at her!

WARREN: Well, for the last three months I've been collecting unemployment and unable to find a job anywhere. That brings me here.

VIRUS: How were you able to collect?

WARREN: They made the mistake of not telling me why I was fired. It was implied, but that doesn't count. So, I got unemployment.

VIRUS: Well, thankfully your bosses are pretty dumb.

WARREN: It wasn't much, hence why I'm here.

VIRUS: True.

(I start to laugh again, the image of my brother throwing a pizza at some bitch of a woman. Warren starts to laugh with me. Two brothers finally bonding after absent from each other for almost five years. It was a good feeling.)

VIRUS: Let's get you settled in. I need to make a few phone calls and let people know you're here. (Warren gives me a look of protest.) No, there is no negotiation on this one. You're family and your family has a right to know where you are and that you're safe. Grab your bag, I'll show you your bedroom.

(I take Warren upstairs and show him a furnished den. Computer, desk, television; pretty much everything he would need. The room also has a sofa with a pull-out bed. There's a closet for his...two outfits....and his own bathroom. He should be comfortable. I let him settle in and get on the horn with my older brother, Joe, and Enika.)

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON.

(I check my watch: one forty-five. My plane leaves at four. I've got just enough time, especially with Mia and Warren out shopping and the house to myself. I grab the video camera and set it on the kitchen table, taking a seat. Yes, my back is to the ocean. It's the usual. I hit record.)

VIRUS: Raizzor, I matter little to you? Is that going to be your punchline when you find yourself on the unfortunate end of Euthanasia? You're wrong. I do care. I care not because I want your respect or admiration; that I could care less for. I care because I want a challenge. I care because I want an opponent that actually wants to put me away, rather than be put away.

I want someone that will test me and take me past my limits. Can you do that? I don't think you can, considering I don't matter to you.

I'm almost insulted.

But, then again, you being the witty veteran you are...I'm sure you'll fight back and forget about professing your love to Robinson for just a few moments.

(A smile.)

VIRUS: So if I don't tag in Robinson, I'm in store for a...beating. I don't believe you. Something tells me if you actually have an upperhand on me -- big if there -- and I refuse to make a tag, you'll make me do it. You want Robinson that bad that you'll TRY to force me to tag him in. I don't roll over that easily, Sommers. You and the Phoenix will have your moments of glory and brutality at Genesis.

Tomorrow, when you step in the ring with me, you better worry about surviving, not settling some personal vendetta. Like I said and like you know, you'll have that chance. It won't be tomorrow..

Tomorrow is your chance to prove that you can still run with the best.

Tomorrow is your chance to prove that you're not a fucking has-been.

Tomorrow couldn't come any faster, could it?

(I take a swig of my bottled water.)

VIRUS: See, once again, you inform me that your goal is personal. Mine's, of course, to win. Why shouldn't it be? That's what I'm here to do. You can't deny a wrestler's basic instinct of his desire to win. I don't care how much you hate Robinson, deep down you have that desire to win. That's what I intend to bring out of you at Rampage. I want to know if you still have what it takes to win.

Maybe I won't tag in Robinson. Maybe I won't let you escape me so you can have your desired brawl with my partner. Is it because I want to keep you guys separate and I'm afraid my partner will get pummeled? No. I'm sure Robinson can handle his own.

I just want you to prove that you can go toe-to-toe with me. Do that...and maybe I'll tag in Robinson.

Maybe.

(I finish off my bottled water and set it aside, off-camera. I crack a few knuckles.)

VIRUS: Sirus! What is going on? I don't need to pull out the video, do I? AOWF Four. Brothers Grimm. Instruments of Destruction. Seraphim. "The Virus" Matthew Engel and Ryan McCade. AOWF Tag-Team Titles. I'm still holding that belt after five years.

Any of this helping to jog that memory? But you were right about one thing. I was never in a federation with you, until now. This is my first stint in the PWA. When we fought back at AOWF Four, I was in the UHWA. However, since I had a damn near perfect tag record in the UHWA, the big dogs in the AOWF thought Ryan and I deserved a title shot.

We got one, and we won.

After that, it wasn't pretty. A betrayal. A new heir. A new rivalry. Ecetera.

But hey, everything up to that point was great. For me.

At any rate, I might be telling you things you already know. Maybe you and Randall are having a little fun with me. Who knows. It's hard to judge whether you Morans are being serious or not. Hell, I've even gone toe-to-toe with Randall a few times. So has my brother, Joe BoXeR. I know you two in the ring fairly well and I'm sure I won't be expecting any surprises. But, then again...you always prepare for the unexpected.

You prepare for that one mistake your opponent makes and you capitalize. You take advantage and put him or her away. That's what I'm great at. Capitalizing on your mistakes. And you will make one and pay dearly for it.

(A moment of silence. I look behind me at the ocean, a feeling of relief.)

VIRUS: Well, I appreciate the reassurance of my family being safe, Sirus. I was being a little over-dramatic when I was talking about that. Sure, I've had a rough past, but I don't expect any harm to come to my family. You're right, all I have to do is worry about you and Raizzor. About the match. About winning. Maybe you should tell that to your partner. All he cares about is murdering Robinson, a man you seem to respect. Think about that, Sirus.

Think about it.

People have been asking me, "What about Genesis?" I like to keep things simple. The... "one day at a time" perception. I'll worry about Genesis when Friday night is over. I'll worry about Sirus and Randall when the time comes. Rest assured, I don't plan on losing. Neither does my sister. I'm sure you'd like to recapture that former glory, Sirus, of holding the PWA tag titles...but I'm afraid that time has come and gone.

It's our time.

I do not forgive.

I do not forget.

See you in the ring.

(fade.)