fugginVOSS
The REAL Funk U. T-shirt
Three weeks ago...
The concrete chilled his feet as he stepped out the glass sliding door with his coffee in one hand and cigarette in the other. The latter already tucked into his mouth ready for inhalation, he expertly lit it while holding his coffee and never bothering to shield the wind. He drew deeply and exhaled from deeper within. Sipped at his coffee while never paying attention to his wife following him out the door.
“That was Karyn on the phone.”
Nothing registered. “Who’s Karyn?”
“Karyn is Maddy’s mum. Hazel goes to school with Maddy.” She reiterated the point by folding her arms across her chest.
He drew back and sipped some more. Still nothing registered so he took the bait. “What’d she want?”
“She told me, Justin, that you’ve signed a wrestling contract for some tournament. That you’re also gonna be WRESTLING in at Infinite, too.” Those arms closed in tighter around her chest as worry weighed upon her shoulders. “I thought we’d talked about this.”
“’The fuck some soccer mum got to do with my wrestling career?” He still never turned to face her.
Grabbing his elbow she gently nudged him around to face him, looking him in the eye. He could see the hurt resonating inside her eyes. The worry was forcing the crow’s feet around her eyes to intensify. “We’ve talked about this. I thought you were done inside the ring? I thought you said if you were ever gonna do it again you’d be in a chair commentating? You NEVER once mentioned you were gonna be active in the ring again, Jus.”
“We talked. We never made any decisions, Jeannie.” He turned his back to her again, looking out over their Baton Rouge property. “Nothing was concrete, darlin’.”
He pushed the cigarette into his mouth again, almost as if he were using the smoke as a force-field.
“Concrete? What’s to talk about, Jus? What more do we have to talk about here? I told you we can’t take you in the ring anymore. I told you it’s not fair on us and you go behind my back and do this shit all over again? Go behind my back and sign another bloody wrestling contract? This is bullshit.” She gave him a little shove which didn’t budge him at all.
“What’s bullshit?” he demanded, spinning on his heel to get in her face. “What’s bullshit, Jeannie, is that I gotta give up who I am coz you’re a little frightened someone will say something to you.”
“Say something? I wish it was JUST say something, Justin. I wish it was. I could HANDLE someone saying something mean or nasty to me. I don’t care about what people say it’s what they do. It’s when I get out from the supermarket and someone’s poured a tin of paint and finger painted the word ASSHOLE into my fucking bonnet. THAT’S what I can’t handle, Justin. I don’t need that shit again. The KIDS don’t need that crap.”
Her chest rose and fell as her breathing became erratic. Hands bawled into fists, the agony contorted her face as she tried to imagine dealing with it all again. His throw away remarks and lackadaisical attitude to her feelings beginning to dissipate. Drawing back on his cigarette one more time, he plucked it from his lips and flicked it into the garden bed below. Wrapping a consoling arm around her shoulders he gave her a squeeze.
“It won’t be like that this time, you’ll see.”
“Why? You bought a bloody time machine and can go back in history and change all the mean things you’ve done in front of a TV camera? All the bastard things you’ve done to people? You can do that? Huh?” Hands on hips, spiteful attitude oozed from her pores.
He dropped his arm, stepped away and rummaged in his pocket for more cigarettes. Cigarettes were his shield from dealing with his emotions. “Piss off, woman. You’re being petty.”
“Petty? I’ll give you petty when I shove this wedding ring up your arse.” Holding her left hand up, she exclamated her point. “I can’t do it anymore, Jus. I can’t take the dickheads bumping into me accidentally-on-purpose when I walk down the street. I can’t DO the kids teasing Hazel in the schoolyard coz her daddy is the dirtiest bastard on their TV, Justin. You think that’s the image your kids want of you? I can ignore the mean nasty words they say... Hazel can’t. Teddy can’t. Charlie’s too little but he’ll grow to find out what people think of his daddy one day.”
“It’ll be different this time,” he pleaded.
“You say that EVERY time, Justin. Every bloody time. But nothing’s different. Nothing changes. I can’t do it.” She pointed at him viciously on every second or third word.
Arms out, as if pleading, Voss spilled his coffee as he rose them. “Whaddaya want me to do? You want me to check out of life? Want me to be another Jerry fucking Lawler and watch everybody else do what I can do better? It’d be like Steve Jobs using a fucking Dell, Jeannie. It’s not who he is.”
“Who’s Steve Jobs?” she asked, completely thrown by the topic.
“You’re missing my bloody point, Jeannie. I NEED this. I AM this. This is who I am.” He pounded his heart with a closed fist. “I can’t change that. I’m like a bloody leopard. These are my spots. I’m a wrestler. Scratch that... I’m a fucking entertainer. And I’m damn good at it.
“You never fucking said a thing when you could walk into any shop and buy whatever you wanted. You never said a damn thing when I bought this house, that house, the one in Miami and the apartment in Melbourne. You never said a bloody thing then and now... now that we’re financially secure and we can live off my endorsements and special appearances you’re willing to take my soul for the fact that you don’t have the balls to let me be who I am and get inside that ring again.”
Having found his cigarette, he stuck it in his mouth and lit it. Put his cup of coffee on a nearby kiddy picnic table and took another couple of draws for good measure.
Jeannie followed him down the verandah, put her hand in the small of his back and rubbed the length of his spine soothingly. Taking hold of his shoulders she gently turned him around, putting a hand on each shoulder and staring him dead in the eyes, her tone softening. “Why do you always have to play the bad guy, Jus? Why are you always the villain?”
“It’s not gonna be like that, Jeannie.” His tone was almost whiny, pleading with her for some trust.
“How? It’s who your character, or whatever the bloody Hell it is, is, Justin. J. Leslie Voss. The Apple of Assholes.”
“Ayatollah of Ass-a-hollah,” he corrected, unable to contain a small laugh.
“I don’t bloody care. I just... I dunno... I don’t want you to live wondering. I don’t. That’s not fair. You’ve done a lot of great things for this family, Jus. You’re a great daddy. Your kids love you. I love you. We adore you.” She pulled down his head and kissed his forehead before cupping the back of it and standing there, resting her forehead against his. “The rest of the world... they don’t get to see the REAL you, Jus. The man who stands up for what he believes in. The man who ferociously defends his friends like they were his blood. The man who stops a guy in a bar from slappin’ his girlfriend. The guy who gives and gives and gives to his community. Those kids and idiots who watch those wrestling programs don’t get to see the real you. It hurts us to hear people say those nasty things about you.”
“I know, darlin’.” He linked his own arms around her waist, drawing her body closer. “I know. It’s gonna be different this time.”
“How can you say that?” She broke the hold, stepping back with her arms folded across her chest once again.
Passion began to flow through his veins, pointing as if he could pin point a specific moment in the time space continuum.
“All that other shit? That nasty shit? The mean, callous villainy I used to bank on... that’s yesterday, darlin’. J. Leslie Voss is yesterday. I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, I’ll do everything to bury that sonofabitch and you’ll turn back in ten years time when I’m heralded and put into the annals of Sports Entertainment as one of the greatest people that ever lived you’ll laugh about J. Leslie Voss.”
Despite his best attempts to sell and the heart that beat proudly on his sleeve his wife seemed unconvinced by his words. She began to step back inside the house, disappointed that the conversation did not go the way of convincing her husband to not compete again when she turned to add one more piece to the puzzle.
“It’s been ten years, Jus. Like you said... A leopard can’t change his spots.” And she disappeared into the house.
Voss turned again, looking out over the property and puffing his cigarette deep in thought.
“But by fuck I’m gonna try,” he said to nobody in particular. “You’ll see.”
The concrete chilled his feet as he stepped out the glass sliding door with his coffee in one hand and cigarette in the other. The latter already tucked into his mouth ready for inhalation, he expertly lit it while holding his coffee and never bothering to shield the wind. He drew deeply and exhaled from deeper within. Sipped at his coffee while never paying attention to his wife following him out the door.
“That was Karyn on the phone.”
Nothing registered. “Who’s Karyn?”
“Karyn is Maddy’s mum. Hazel goes to school with Maddy.” She reiterated the point by folding her arms across her chest.
He drew back and sipped some more. Still nothing registered so he took the bait. “What’d she want?”
“She told me, Justin, that you’ve signed a wrestling contract for some tournament. That you’re also gonna be WRESTLING in at Infinite, too.” Those arms closed in tighter around her chest as worry weighed upon her shoulders. “I thought we’d talked about this.”
“’The fuck some soccer mum got to do with my wrestling career?” He still never turned to face her.
Grabbing his elbow she gently nudged him around to face him, looking him in the eye. He could see the hurt resonating inside her eyes. The worry was forcing the crow’s feet around her eyes to intensify. “We’ve talked about this. I thought you were done inside the ring? I thought you said if you were ever gonna do it again you’d be in a chair commentating? You NEVER once mentioned you were gonna be active in the ring again, Jus.”
“We talked. We never made any decisions, Jeannie.” He turned his back to her again, looking out over their Baton Rouge property. “Nothing was concrete, darlin’.”
He pushed the cigarette into his mouth again, almost as if he were using the smoke as a force-field.
“Concrete? What’s to talk about, Jus? What more do we have to talk about here? I told you we can’t take you in the ring anymore. I told you it’s not fair on us and you go behind my back and do this shit all over again? Go behind my back and sign another bloody wrestling contract? This is bullshit.” She gave him a little shove which didn’t budge him at all.
“What’s bullshit?” he demanded, spinning on his heel to get in her face. “What’s bullshit, Jeannie, is that I gotta give up who I am coz you’re a little frightened someone will say something to you.”
“Say something? I wish it was JUST say something, Justin. I wish it was. I could HANDLE someone saying something mean or nasty to me. I don’t care about what people say it’s what they do. It’s when I get out from the supermarket and someone’s poured a tin of paint and finger painted the word ASSHOLE into my fucking bonnet. THAT’S what I can’t handle, Justin. I don’t need that shit again. The KIDS don’t need that crap.”
Her chest rose and fell as her breathing became erratic. Hands bawled into fists, the agony contorted her face as she tried to imagine dealing with it all again. His throw away remarks and lackadaisical attitude to her feelings beginning to dissipate. Drawing back on his cigarette one more time, he plucked it from his lips and flicked it into the garden bed below. Wrapping a consoling arm around her shoulders he gave her a squeeze.
“It won’t be like that this time, you’ll see.”
“Why? You bought a bloody time machine and can go back in history and change all the mean things you’ve done in front of a TV camera? All the bastard things you’ve done to people? You can do that? Huh?” Hands on hips, spiteful attitude oozed from her pores.
He dropped his arm, stepped away and rummaged in his pocket for more cigarettes. Cigarettes were his shield from dealing with his emotions. “Piss off, woman. You’re being petty.”
“Petty? I’ll give you petty when I shove this wedding ring up your arse.” Holding her left hand up, she exclamated her point. “I can’t do it anymore, Jus. I can’t take the dickheads bumping into me accidentally-on-purpose when I walk down the street. I can’t DO the kids teasing Hazel in the schoolyard coz her daddy is the dirtiest bastard on their TV, Justin. You think that’s the image your kids want of you? I can ignore the mean nasty words they say... Hazel can’t. Teddy can’t. Charlie’s too little but he’ll grow to find out what people think of his daddy one day.”
“It’ll be different this time,” he pleaded.
“You say that EVERY time, Justin. Every bloody time. But nothing’s different. Nothing changes. I can’t do it.” She pointed at him viciously on every second or third word.
Arms out, as if pleading, Voss spilled his coffee as he rose them. “Whaddaya want me to do? You want me to check out of life? Want me to be another Jerry fucking Lawler and watch everybody else do what I can do better? It’d be like Steve Jobs using a fucking Dell, Jeannie. It’s not who he is.”
“Who’s Steve Jobs?” she asked, completely thrown by the topic.
“You’re missing my bloody point, Jeannie. I NEED this. I AM this. This is who I am.” He pounded his heart with a closed fist. “I can’t change that. I’m like a bloody leopard. These are my spots. I’m a wrestler. Scratch that... I’m a fucking entertainer. And I’m damn good at it.
“You never fucking said a thing when you could walk into any shop and buy whatever you wanted. You never said a damn thing when I bought this house, that house, the one in Miami and the apartment in Melbourne. You never said a bloody thing then and now... now that we’re financially secure and we can live off my endorsements and special appearances you’re willing to take my soul for the fact that you don’t have the balls to let me be who I am and get inside that ring again.”
Having found his cigarette, he stuck it in his mouth and lit it. Put his cup of coffee on a nearby kiddy picnic table and took another couple of draws for good measure.
Jeannie followed him down the verandah, put her hand in the small of his back and rubbed the length of his spine soothingly. Taking hold of his shoulders she gently turned him around, putting a hand on each shoulder and staring him dead in the eyes, her tone softening. “Why do you always have to play the bad guy, Jus? Why are you always the villain?”
“It’s not gonna be like that, Jeannie.” His tone was almost whiny, pleading with her for some trust.
“How? It’s who your character, or whatever the bloody Hell it is, is, Justin. J. Leslie Voss. The Apple of Assholes.”
“Ayatollah of Ass-a-hollah,” he corrected, unable to contain a small laugh.
“I don’t bloody care. I just... I dunno... I don’t want you to live wondering. I don’t. That’s not fair. You’ve done a lot of great things for this family, Jus. You’re a great daddy. Your kids love you. I love you. We adore you.” She pulled down his head and kissed his forehead before cupping the back of it and standing there, resting her forehead against his. “The rest of the world... they don’t get to see the REAL you, Jus. The man who stands up for what he believes in. The man who ferociously defends his friends like they were his blood. The man who stops a guy in a bar from slappin’ his girlfriend. The guy who gives and gives and gives to his community. Those kids and idiots who watch those wrestling programs don’t get to see the real you. It hurts us to hear people say those nasty things about you.”
“I know, darlin’.” He linked his own arms around her waist, drawing her body closer. “I know. It’s gonna be different this time.”
“How can you say that?” She broke the hold, stepping back with her arms folded across her chest once again.
Passion began to flow through his veins, pointing as if he could pin point a specific moment in the time space continuum.
“All that other shit? That nasty shit? The mean, callous villainy I used to bank on... that’s yesterday, darlin’. J. Leslie Voss is yesterday. I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, I’ll do everything to bury that sonofabitch and you’ll turn back in ten years time when I’m heralded and put into the annals of Sports Entertainment as one of the greatest people that ever lived you’ll laugh about J. Leslie Voss.”
Despite his best attempts to sell and the heart that beat proudly on his sleeve his wife seemed unconvinced by his words. She began to step back inside the house, disappointed that the conversation did not go the way of convincing her husband to not compete again when she turned to add one more piece to the puzzle.
“It’s been ten years, Jus. Like you said... A leopard can’t change his spots.” And she disappeared into the house.
Voss turned again, looking out over the property and puffing his cigarette deep in thought.
“But by fuck I’m gonna try,” he said to nobody in particular. “You’ll see.”