Post by Deleted on Jun 30, 2013 12:14:32 GMT -5
5 Years in the Future…
In the frame was Humphrey Craig in a grey suit, patting down the wrinkles and bends in his pink dress shirt. He leaned heavily on the left side of his seat. He looked less than amused as assistants ran around making sure the last preparations were done for the interview; the makeup, the lighting, etc. The interviewer took his seat just barely visible inside the frame of the camera. He was wearing a blue dress shirt with the cufflinks unbuttoned and the collar loose revealing the white undershirt.
Interviewer: Now, how would you describe John Gable as a person? What seemed to make him tick?
Humphrey Craig: John…had issues. He always seemed somewhere else like he was never paying attention to what was happening to him that very moment. Either he was in the past or pushing himself into a possible future. Sometimes you couldn’t tell where his head was. He had moments where he seemed to becoming from a different world. Constantly talking about humanity like it was some sort of domino set up ready to be pushed over. He had every success story in Hollywood memorized and dissected as if these were the laws to enter the holy land of show business. He would talk constantly about who did this and who met who when and he felt if he did these same things that a producer would be on the other end, you know what I mean? Most people were taking whatever work they could get, he was choreographing his career.
Alexis was in her own interview. She sat up straight in her plaid sweater vest, brushing her hair behind her ear as her eyes stared through the interviewer with a glazed over haze. The interviewer had to grab her attention out of la la land by snapping his fingers.
Alexis Evanovich: Sorry about that...I haven’t had a lot of sleep recently with all the travelling. Ummm…He was very difficult sometimes. After you knew him for a while, you started to wonder if it was all a façade. That maybe he is just trying to live the act and see how many people he can fool. But then an even scarier fact comes along: maybe he isn’t acting. It seemed to get worse when he joined WCF. I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking, but the week before the only thing he would talk about was how easy it was going to be to get the edge up on ‘a bunch of red neck loser’ and he would be in and out and on his way to Box Office Success in no time…
Present day…
Is it a joke? Maybe, but as far as I can see, everything I do is a joke. An actor trying to be a wrestler…that should have been my first clue. It doesn’t work backwards; you can’t go from one of the most sought after jobs then switch to this horse shit and expect that to send you up to the top. It’s just not the way things are done. I was in denial this whole time, I wanted to believe that my day in the spot light was coming but all I had in my future was further humiliation. First, I get two shots at titles and I lose both while getting stuck in a dead weight stable with a person I despised more than anyone in that whole locker room and to make matters worse I had to tag with him. And when I did finally win a title, it was the Television title…The lowest form of entertainment in this low brow world. Then as usual, I kept on talking about how I was going to change that and turn Television into a higher form of art and intellectuality, but the only tragedy and comedy here was me losing it to Cheetah Fighter, one of the hammiest and most dim witted wrestlers to ever step foot into the ring. I thought I had him beat and the whole thing wasn’t worth worrying about but like most of my life, I jammed my foot pretty hard into my mouth. I ended up losing and everything I had said was just hot air taken away by the wind. I couldn’t show my face out in public. ‘I’m totally gonna make this company money and put asses in the seat again’ ‘I am a big star, as soon as I cash in my success from the Television title, I am out of here.’ I never felt like a bigger fool in my life.
I had burnt all my bridges. Humphrey was pissed with me and kept calling me to bitch about something I did or something I said or will say. So after the revelation of the miserable conquest having failed, I had no other choice but to move out of the states and moved to the lowest point my career could take me (okay, second lowest if I am being honest, WCF…ah-hem, again I mean EPPW, is pretty bad.) which as all people in the business know, it is doing foreign independent films in Turkey. A few weeks ago, I found a script in my gym bag after returning from a match which contained a script that only had a number on the front. At first I just shrugged it off as I read the first four pages and decided it was absolute tripe. Turkey itself is the spoiled little brat that got all the toys without any of the discipline. They didn’t spend years perfecting and recreating an art form that was constantly going through changes because of technology, they came in at the end when everything was already figured out and all they had to do was slap a CGI bomb to the movie and watch the money come in. Turkish movies became a worse laughing stock than Bollywood. They had to make fake reviews and stuff the votes on any internet movie site they could find. They would constantly flood message boards trying to hype up their movies like everyone should know about it. All they got was a wag of the finger from the world. But now here I was sitting in some poorly built apartment that only had one bedroom, a dining room that also could be used as a living room and kitchen. The oven was rusted and only worked half the time and that was when I wasn’t trying to use it. The cupboards were crooked and the hinges were busted.
I found out the title of the movie was call “All of the Turkeys”. Where a man who suffered from schizophrenia and paranoia, so much so that he thought he was being turned into a turkey by an evil spirit of his past wife because he abandoned her with child out in the cold because he couldn’t handle his life at the time. Why Turkey? Well, the writer is a surrealist activist that loves metaphors and symbolism and felt that the country of Turkey has left its people in the cold or something like that, I am not sure, it is all in a different language and I can’t speak a word of it.
I deserve this…This was what my life came to and I deserved every last bit of it to be honest. I could feel every mistake crowding me as I sat at the dining…coffee…table with half cooked turkey bacon on my plate. Since last week, I had locked myself in my apartment to get ready for my part, only to come out for filming. I read books about Turkeys, watched their movements on the interwebs and even practiced my gobble…gobble gobble…BAWK!...It was what I had to do to keep from jumping off some cliff and smashing to the ground. It wasn’t that I wanted to be dead, I just liked imagining people crying over my casket and at least pretending they missed me. It was one of my favorite pastimes. What kind of star would I be if I didn’t enable the dramatics? But alas, I wouldn’t be able to see it then. Moving to Turkey was the next best thing I could do. I wondered if anyone was thinking “where’s Gable? I haven’t seen him in a while” “Oh, I am worried, he might be hurt or worse!” “I wish I was nicer and showed respect to him”. Yes, that was the ticket, but in reality I assumed that hardly anyone really noticed besides the people I owed money, because you only live in this life long enough to make enemies that rarely care or friends who can just as easily forget. Oh woe is me, how I take this spoiled meal and feast upon it like if dining on my own words. Oh woe is me, this poor fool who thought he could make a difference but ended up tasting the concrete of rock bottom like the millions and millions of others that have tried and failed. (Too dramatic?...)Though the difference between me and them is that I still have something to offer but maybe it isn’t going to be on a big stage or in a major motion picture. Maybe it will have to be on a super small scale movie, only to be appreciated once I have left this world like so many others. My art to be judged by the masses as eternal and unforgettable as I give them all of myself in the most powerful and most inspiring performances given to date. Yes, that will be me, one of the most prestigious kinds of artist: the kind that people regret not appreciating while he was in his prime. They will feel so guilty that they will start naming awards and charitable organizations after me and actors for years to come will study my amazing face as if they wished they could make it their own. But I would never be able to do it if people remembered me for being “that guy who lost to that crazy furry”. I had to break through that, but not through wrestling…yet. First I had to show people that I hadn’t bashed my brains in too hard and ruined my perfectly good brain.
Every day I was going to wake up turkey man and go to sleep turkey man. I had to believe I was this confused human being, no matter how preposterous it might have seemed. That was the sign of a great actor to be able to turn the sourest of tripe into something the world would never forget. Like those before me that had to do such foul roles in order to keep up interest in the public’s eye. I will rise up and force the world to see what it rejected so long ago. I now followed the path of Vincent Price who constantly had to work below what his skills deserved as he starred in so many cheesy B-horror flicks, that the world took him more for an ironic celebrity than an actual actor, which is a shame because the man had more class than the whole of Turkey in my personal opinion. I was mesmerized as he took these ludicrous situations and made me feel the darkest parts of humanity. His performance in “The Last Man on Earth” made me understand what it truly felt like to be absolutely alone in the world, to not even have the company of a dog to idly past the time with. In his performance in “The House on Haunted Hill”, he showed me how powerful hate can be when you smile. To be honest, Vincent Price got me through a lot of hardships in my career and he continues to do that today as I find myself to be alone. Even now as I sat here with a dinner I could not bring myself to eat and a T.V. that I could not understand no matter what channel I could change it to, I couldn’t help but remember him in the “Wax Museum” as he got his revenge to the ones that wronged him and turned them into his art. I remember him specifically in the scene that took place at the premiere of his Wax Museum and he was conversing on a piece he made out of a female (conveniently leaving that detail out) to the friend of who the said piece was made out of. His cool demeanor and his proud delivery all melded into a stinging hate and satisfaction which I think many people over looked because it was in a half-witted b-movie. Oh, I wish I could bring such a powerful dominance of the essence of humanity to the world and make them bow to me in pure admiration. The EPPW would have to give me a World title shot after that and I would so scornfully decline as I jump right past them and into the majors. But all I knew now was that those big movie roles weren’t for me at this point, even the one I had offered to me that I fought so hard to get was just all wrong and I had to decline.
Luckily enough, my crazy stint in wrestling didn’t go completely unnoticed, because right after my match with Mr…ummmm…Fighter…I was contacted and was asked to appear on ‘Inside the Actors Studio’ which is something I always dreamt about. I even had a list of things I wanted to get to while on the stage. I would spend hours of my day imagining all the stories I could tell and how intently those students would be listening to catch every word I would say. I would make them laugh, make them inspired but most importantly I would make them think about what they were doing wrong and how could they be more like me. I don’t think any actor who cares about their profession would ever give up a chance like this.
Two Weeks Later…
James Lipton: For the actors studio, I usually bring in someone who has established themselves either in Broadway or Hollywood including actors such as Brad Pitt, Alec Baldwin, Michael Caine, the list goes on and on. But being that it is easy to look back and see all the answers, I felt it would be beneficial for the students if I brought someone in who is currently in pursuit to find out exactly where he belongs in this profession. He is a man who felt the brisk five minutes in the spotlight before falling far far down into obscurity. You maybe recognize him if you are familiar with that of Professional Wrestling where he made his first attempt back up to the top. He has been criticized for his very blunt but questionable statements on Religion, Entertainment, violence against the homeless or anything else you can have an opinion on for that matter. No matter how you feel about his beliefs, you must admit that these outbursts have gotten him more publicity and might just be the ticket he needs to return to life in the limelight. Everyone, please welcome John Gable…
The career introspective chats were always so easy. The interviewer doesn’t want to call you out on anything; they handle you with care as you become the very representation of the center of attention. It was better than working on stage. Not only did you have an auditorium full of people, but you are also talking about yourself for an hour. It’s every actor’s dream. There I sat with brown feathers lining my sleeves and a beak glued over my nose and mouth with the waddle hang on it. My head was shaved bald so I could paint my face blue and then paint the rest of my head red.
John Gobble: Thank you, James Lipton. But it is Gobble now.
James Lipton: Right, in preparation for your new role you have changed your name to John…Gobble…Well, like always, let’s start at the begin…
Before he could finish, I jumped right into my answer.
John Gobble: Yes. I was born in Cleveland, Ohio. My mother was a painter and my Father was a clown. I realized I wanted to act when I was six. It was a buuu…buu…beautiful day in Febuu…febaww…February when my Mother brought me to a play in the park of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”. I was hit by the revelation and never looked back as I studied all I could about the art of deception.
James Lipton: …That’s not the information I g…
John Gobble: You of all people should know not to believe everything you read. So many rumors being flung up and down, back and forth, any which way and most of them are taken out of context or just straight up lies. You know those tabloids, am I right?
The Audience awkwardly chuckled. It was all good, I knew I was rewriting history, but real life is not as inspirational as an undeniable destiny. People don’t cling on to “I just decided it would be cool to be a star”. No, they want the Ryan Gosling “got my family through tough times” story to swoon over or the Edward Norton “acting was love at first site” story to make people feel better about not giving up their worthless passions.
James Lipton:…Oooookay. Why did you choose wrestling to be an outlet after you had such a terrible flop that many say was the end of your career and some are saying it might still be the end?
John Gobble: You see, I was looking at it all wrong. When I entered WCF, I thought it was going to be easy to stick out since I have one of those faces that just draws people in, but then I found out that I wasn’t dealing with the typical audience. These people were much lower developed than the rest of the nation. These people didn’t care if you were famous; they just wanted to see someone get hit. So, I couldn’t just use my superior understanding of trends and demographics to get me to the top…now I had to use my superiority in strategic thinking which seemed easy enough to me. Most of these guys are brain damaged and drunk anyways so I couldn’t imagine it being that hard. And for the most part it wasn’t. I was able to rise up through the under crust of mid-card status and work my way to a title. I had it all set up, once I showed these yokels I out did them at their own game, I was gonna use it to my advantage and sneak my way back into Hollywood…
But even with my career already laid out in the back of my mind, I had an emptiness inside me. The last conversation I had before leaving the states was with Alexis...Well, besides Atreyu who was helping me pack…but, his last words to me were “I thought you were buying me pizza”. I was at my old home in Ohio, trying to pack everything I could as fast as cinematically possible (which is five times as fast as “humanly” possible) when all of a sudden I heard a knock on the door. I tore my head away from my possessions and half consciously approached it. It all seemed like a dream looking back on it now, a sort of white border infested the vision of my memory (after all, every time you remember something, the memory itself is slightly reconstructed…and I have been thinking about this one a lot). As if an homage to James Cameron’s nightmare like use of it, I remember everything being slowed down as I reached for the door knob. I pulled the door open and there she was with her make-up running down her face and her turtle neck sweater all uneven and soaked with tears.
Alexis Evanovich: We need to talk, you son of a bitch.
Her lip quivered as she held back anymore tears. I stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. I had no qualms with a last minute discussion before I was to never see her again. She stomped in and saw Benjy plopped on the couch. That long holding back the tears was about as much as she could take before she put her face in her hands and let out a steam of tears so violently that I could see it start to build up a very small puddle on my wood flooring. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, I knew where it came from but my mind was so far gone from the moment and had already beaten me to Turkey. Though, even with my mind gone, I still noticed details that no amount of remembering could change. Her usually perfectly organized hair was just a mess as I imagined she must have been tearing it out in frustration for months on end trying to figure out what happened to her. I happened to know that she has missed quite a few meetings for her inherited non-profit organization and has even turned down a few Broadway roles. Her usual jewelry was off; even some piercings had healed over. It was obvious to me that she wanted these things to be noticed. She wanted to make a scene and make me feel terrible for whatever it was I had done and what others might have done to her. I knew my own kind and just because she wasn’t always an actress, didn’t mean she didn’t always act. Atreyu was wide eyed with confusion as this was his first time even meeting Alexis as far as I knew. I went back to my possessions and continued packing.
John Gable: Sorry Benjy. I guess I have an unexpected guest. Don’t worry she won’t be here long.
Alexis Evanovich: I just can’t deal with it anymore, it is tearing at me. I can’t sleep, I keep having these nightmares of being up at that mansion. I keep having nervous ticks that are becoming more apparent with each passing day.
She walked up beside me and looked up at me with her big ol’ beaten puppy eyes. I didn’t even bother to fake a flinch; I couldn’t care less what was going on in her head. I drained that out of my system when I spent that night in jail after she called the cops on me. As far as I was concerned, the mansion never existed…well, that’s until I hear the beats again…one, two, three, four…But anyways, I wasn’t going to entertain her hunger for attention and sympathy. If she wanted sympathy, she would have to go to Humphrey because I was all out. Humphrey, what an idiot. When had he ever been useful to me? He just kept on leeching off all I did. I am the one that steps into the ring, I am the one who puts my body on the line, and I am the one that has to go to the chiropractor. And what does he do? He complains to me about not being able to keep his big super star role. It wasn’t me who took it away and it wasn’t my fault that those who had control simply didn’t like me…I just have that factor about me. But I digress, they were both ganging up on me to fix THEIR problems when I had my own things to worry about. Alexis stared at me for a good thirty seconds without a word. God damn her, I could feel it burning holes in me without even seeing it…
Alexis Evanovich: And I worry about you Gable. It scares me what you might be doing out there…
I peered over towards Atreyu and chuckled under my breath.
John Gable: She worries about me…I save HER life and she worries about ME!
Her stared turned to disbelief as she choked to breathe through her tears. Damn was she was convincing...Could have out done Natalie Portman if she had the chance. She turned to Atreyu with a meager apologetic look trying to act like she was trying to be calm in front of a stranger.
Alexis Evanovich: Not to be rude, but could you please give us some privacy.
Benjamin Atreyu: Sure thing.
Atreyu you made an attempt to get up before I turned around and shouted out in defiance.
John Gable: NO! He can stay. He is helping me pack since no one else seemed willing to!...Now, sit down. She can’t boss you around.
Benjamin Atreyu: I think I really should be going now.
John Gable: SIT DOWN!
He dropped back down onto the couch as his confusion mixed with an awkward shock. She wanted to play the sympathy card? I was more than willing to give her something to really cry about. I turned back to what I was doing as I once again continued with my packing.
John Gable: Why must she waste time worrying about me!?! Did I ever ask her to watch out for me? Did I tell her that I need help? No, she just wants to play caretaker and feel all special so she could say she did something for someone else instead of her bratty, pathetic, unbearable self. She just wants to feel partly human because she doesn’t want to look at herself and see an absolute monster. Because that is what we both are…Monsters. We act because we crave the attention, we are self-obsessed and we want people to praise our names from the roof tops. And this whole traumatic experience isn’t a downside for her; It is an up, because now she can cry and cry and for once in her pathetic life not feel like a bitch because it actually means something. Well, what about all those years before when she would call me up and sob over the fucking phone because everyone that was around her was so sick of hearing her whine and cry about absolutely nothing. I honestly tried to help her with her invisible problem, I really did. But nothing was good enough to comfort the ‘ever so tormented’ Alexis…
Her face was beet red. She stood there no longer crying, but now clinching her fists and fighting the urge to knock me upside the head with a chair.
Alexis Evanovich: What about you?
I turned to her with a stern look on my face and like so many other times when I am beyond pissed, a twitch in my eye.
John Gable: What about me?
Alexis Evanovich: You say that like it is never about you. But the truth is when hasn’t it been about you? When do you ever think about anyone besides yourself except when you are criticizing and tearing them down? You act like you are the only one around here that matters. Guess what John, this is real life! There are no main characters and there are no awards for living it. What we dealt with wasn’t some work of fiction. It was real and scary and we both just suppressed it down. We need to talk about it or it is going to consume both of us.
John Gable: You have spoken to me plenty. You waste your time stuck in the past because you like it there, you like wallowing in the horror and for a long time I did too. I loved the feeling of being a victim for once rather than the cause of other’s pain, but now I don’t feel either because I have come to realize that the only person to blame is oneself. I am not going to spend every moment of my life delusional that someone or something is to blame for my shitty situation because the truth is that sometimes there is no one to blame, sometimes you just get a shitty hand and sometimes you even get a fatal one. But if you think I will just sit back and accept the guilt for your pain then you can just fuck off right now because I am not taking anyone else’s baggage to Turkey.
Alexis Evanovich: Wait, what the hell are you talking about?
John Gable: You’re a smart girl. Figure it out, talk to a few people. I accepted a movie role in Turkey because that is where my career needs to be right now. Away from all the industry bastards and harlots like you.
Alexis Evanovich: John, I am not trying to push my problems on you! I just hate waking up screaming and wondering if you are out there beating down another homeless person. I just think we have ignored it long enough.
I threw my hands up as if giving up on the conversation as a whole and directed my attention to Atreyu again.
John Gable: There it is. See how she is the tormented one and I am the one that needs to be worried about. she is such a fucking martyr. She always has been and always will be and again, I think it is because she likes hanging on the cross rather than getting out her message. Well, I am not a carpenter, so you came to the wrong house.
Alexis Evanovich: God damn it Gable, I killed a man in cold blood. They let us go. How does that not bother you?
Atreyu was horrified as Alexis pathetically blurted out the secret right in front of him. I grimaced as my shoulders sunk as I was hit with a heavy wave of resentment towards the she-bitch.
John Gable: Benjamin, I think it is best if you left for a little bit.
He zoomed out the door as I stared back at Alexis. We stood in my former living room silently as I listened to the door close.
Errrrrrrrr, tap-click-thump…
John Gable: It does bother me! Do you think I am just travelling around and having a good time after all that? Do you really think I am that dim witted!?!
Alexis Evanovich: Gable, stop it!
John Gable: No, you shut the fuck up and listen to me for once! I am done. I just suffered one of the most embarrassing losses of my career to some guy who doesn’t even understand the idea of reality. I had everything I had worked for served back to me on a silver platter by a half conscious human being who thinks he is some kind of fucking cat. My own stable disowned me after all the work I did for them and now I got some crazy illuminati rip-off on my ass trying to get me to join their Roman orgy conventions after they tried to knock me out of the competition for the guy YOU killed. I got my career to think about!
Alexis Evanovich: Fuck your career! Fuck that stupid scam you started. It has done nothing but become a nail for YOUR fucking cross. You want to talk to me about whiney assholes? You are the quintessential whiney little bitch! ‘Oh woe is me, I have to wrestle to keep my career a float!’ How can you even think about that when they continue to make me question who I can trust?
John Gable: I don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s your problem, I am moving to where they and you can’t get to me. Now go home and sob in front of your unreasonably big and retarded Star Wars poster collection that meant so fucking much to you. Just a sad excuse for friends if you ask me…
I turned away once again. I wasn’t even packing at this point. I just wanted to make her feel worse.
Alexis Evanovich: I got rid of them.
John Gable: hehe, yeah, you got rid of them…suuurrre you did. “I’m all grown up now, I throw away my favorite toy, please take me seriously.”
Alexis Evanovich: I lit them on fire last night. I couldn’t stand looking at them anymore. All I could think of was back at that party when he poked a hole right into our plan and knew even more than I did. It was no longer a collection; it was the horror of my life. I didn’t get rid of them out of a fit; I got rid of them because they no longer brought me the joy I once sought from them.
John Gable: No, I’m not going to shed a tear for you or your waste of thousands and thousands of dollars and once again, thanks for pinning one more thing on me.
Alexis Evanovich: I am not pinning anything on you! Who is the one being a martyr now? You pin all your failures on everyone but you. You say that there is no one to blame but one’s self but you don’t truly believe that. You blame Cheetah man or whatever, you blame WCF, you blame me and you blame Humphrey and we were just trying to help you…
John Gable: God damn it, I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone except myself. Now that that is settled, please leave my house before I force you out.
She didn’t display anything anymore. I didn’t bother to look but I could tell she just stared right through me like life had just all of a sudden disappeared. She turned and marched right out the door.
Five Years…
Alexis Evanovich: He hit a really low point where he couldn’t trust anyone. Most people had to walk on egg shells around him. I had never seen him so distraught in my life and I felt terrible that I didn’t know how to help…It was clearly evident to me that a major part of him just wanted to sink lower and see where it took him.
Atreyu was training in his own personal gym at home when he was asked for an interview. He stood next to a ring with nothing but his wrestling gear on.
Benjamin Atreyu: Not sure what was going on there. Teamed once and thought he was a pretty cool guy. Well, the more I got to know him, the more I could see he was really struggling to keep from drowning. I would see him having arguments with friends all the time, even could hear him arguing with himself in his dressing room. The guy was far from alright.
Two weeks…
We continued on to a few different topics, kind of brushing over some certain unpleasant parts of history…for now. But then he brought up the question about my new part in the movie.
James Lipton:…How about your most recent role. What can we expect?
John Gobble: Expect me to be the one to make it worth anything. I didn’t choose this project because it was right for me or that I thought it would be my big break, but that I thought I could make it better than they were even thinking. To be honest, I can’t stand the nonsensical surrealism that infests so much of independent films. Holy Motors was crap, Beyond the Black Rainbow lacked any sort of substance and don’t even get me started on The American Astronaut. These really bad plots all get by with some sort of major selling point but it is usually a bust in all other areas. Most Independent movies get by with either screenplay or acting or by chance an actually competent director which is funny because most independent movies fail at all of these things, so it is more that certain ones get by because people are so surprised there is something worth watching. But let me tell you a little story. I was standing on top of one of the houses we had set up for the film, with a view of the whole damn set. Damien, my translator, was standing up there with me. Now, something you got to understand about Damien was he never dealt with actors before so I messed with him every chance I got. I remember turning to him and saying “Hey, Damien…I think I am going to try and fly” and his jaw just drops and then he says all timid like “but…but…John…Turkeys can’t fly” and I am just trying to not burst out laughing as I get closer to the edge “But I want to try…because that’s what a turkey would do…” I began to flap my feathers and then the next thing I know, he tackles me down yelling “Don’t jump, don’t jump!”
Now the audience laughed with a bit more of enthusiasm as I continued to check off items from my list of “what to do during my career introspective”…Tell a funny story about a day on set?...Check…But that specific day was a lot worse than that story made out.
It was my first week in Turkey and I was rushed around everywhere. I had travelled out of the country before but I always had company to join me so it was never an issue, but now I didn’t have that luxury and what an experience it was. First, I was picked up by the production assistant Aydan Binici who didn’t speak a word of English, when I specifically asked for my translator instead. So, it created a little bit of a problem, especially because he spelled my name “Jun Gebal” which wasn’t the first time sadly. But from there we attempted to get to my apartment and then proceeded to get lost. Because of the language barrier it took me a very long game of charades before I was aware of the fact. We stopped at a gas station where he asked for direction and I picked up a lighter, but the gas station was halfway from being condemned and didn’t have Camels or Marlboros and I’d be damn if I was going to smoke L&Ms…ew. So, I was jet lagged and without smokes…why does this nonexistent God hate me so…But alas, that wasn’t the terrible tragedy that befell me that day.
After losing an hour, we finally arrived at my apartment but we had to hurry to the set because filming was to begin the day I arrived. When you aren’t worried about quality, you are be surprised how fast things can get started. The first scene we shot was of the ‘protagonist’ leaving his wife’s funeral. The scene itself seemed pretty pointless, it didn’t establish any sort of character and it didn’t further the story itself. It was just a really long walk to his car which from what Damien told me, Serkan ‘Mr. Important Director Man’ (as I have started calling him) Peynirci insisted it was the most important scene in the movie…
Damien Pasnak: He says that this scene is the reason why he joined the project. He just wants you to walk across to your car as slowly as you can. Says it sets an atmosphere or something…
Mr. Important Director Man was jabbering on behind him as he tried to interpret it.
Damien Pasnak: He says once you reach the car, you are suppose to pull out…a banana?
Damien turned back to the Serkan as they went back and forth, from what I could tell, trying to figure out what was lost in translation…I’m screwed. Then Damien turned back to me.
Damien Pasnak: Sorry, he said keys.
John Gobble: Look, I don’t need instructions on how to walk and unlock a car so can we just get a move on.
So we all got into our specific spots and waited for the director’s queue. I stepped out of the funeral home with my head low. I tried to give as much purpose to the scene through my absolutely flawless (if I may say so) interpretation of anguish and distraught. I fought with the mundane scene, looking at my car wantingly as if it were miles and miles away. Instead of just slowing down my walk for no reason, I projected a grimace and a limp to justify that my bones ached and my heart was weak. This man should be destroyed, not asleep even if he was the cause of her death. He should feel ever inch of his body collapsing to the whim of sorrow and defeat as he comes to the realization that he walked out never to be able to say good bye to someone he cherished. Why is it that these pretentious director types are more concerned with a few lousy moments of “anti-entertainment” instead of something that is conceivable and distinctive to the human condition? It seems to me that they are more inclined to ignore and punish the viewer for watching said film than to actually indulge them, but I digress. I walked across a dying lawn which had more patches of dirt than grass and a rusted up metal fence running along it. I was being followed alongside by a digital camera which I felt would most likely will smother my performance when it was finally projected onto a bigger screen, causing nasty pixilation that will result in making me look unappealing to anybody watching who might be looking for someone to take lead in a much more coherent and important film. Truly the Turks couldn’t tell their cinematics from their cinnamon sticks and I would be forced to suffer for their arrogance. But anyways, before I could finish the scene, a black limo rolled onto set without any care whom it might run into. The moment was ruined, the shot was lost and I knew I would be filming it again very shortly with a few “helpful” tips from Mr. Important Director Man. But at that moment, everybody turned their heads and jumped with glee as I was stupefied at who could be so important that they could enter unannounced and ruin a shot without even so much as an angry mob waiting for him. But the worst thing possible stepped from behind those limo doors. Henry Cohen, the producer I met on the cruise liner, the one that was trying to steal that movie away from Bill and is a part of that miserable faux cult. What the hell was he doing in Turkey and on the set of this lack-luster independent disaster? He wore an ugly all white suit with no tie. Sunglass covered his eyes and rings covered his fingers. He had a nasty smile filled with crooked teeth. I swear I zoned out for a good minute or two until he walked over to me and patted me on the shoulder.
Henry Cohen: Hey there Gable. Long time no see. I am glad we finally have the opportunity to work together. God knows I have been looking forward to it.
John Gobble: What the hell are you talking about?
His irritating hideous smile dropped into an insincere frown as I fought the urge to rip the skin off his pale face. I ripped my shoulder from his hand.
Henry Cohen: Why Gable, I thought you knew. I am personally funding this picture. At first I thought it was a stupid idea but once I heard you decided to join us, I had a complete one-eighty and saw the true…art…it could be.
John Gobble: I have taken a few blows to the head but I’m not stupid. You probably had this whole thing set up.
He chuckled as he looked to the ground and kicked the dirt. He looked back up with smile again as the rim of his sunglasses seem to hit just the right angle to bounce the sun’s rays right into my eyes.
Henry Cohen: Who do you think put that script in your bag in the first place? We are serious about you joining us. We truly feel you would be an asset…
John Gobble: Yeah, I would be the only one.
Henry Cohen: C’mon now. Why so hostile? We can be friends. I even got you a present.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Southern cuts, holding it out like there was no way I would deny it. It took a lot of will power not to snatch them right out of his hands but as soon as my arm even twitched at the thought, I would remember everything I went through and remember he was one of the people responsible. I simply turned and walked away but he continued to talk anyways.
Henry Cohen: Don’t think you are safe here John, you never know who might be one of us.
I halted in my tracks. He was right; it was hard to trust anyone anymore when any of them could be a member. So, I was at their mercy now. I continued walking and met up with Damien as he was filling his plate at the buffet. You would never expect he had the appetite that he did. He was a slim fellow and short too but he put away burgers like he had four stomachs. He turned to me with a smile as he crammed a biscuit into his face.
Damien Pasnak: What was that all about?
John Gable:…Don’t worry about it.
Then I had a thought…What if he was the one Henry was talking about? It would make sense. He was the only way I could get anything done around here and having him as a spy would be the kind of leverage he would need as it seemed no one else here was able to understand English. But he took a step and managed to catch his own shoelace and fell to the ground, sending his plate of food everywhere. If he was the spy, he was a pretty dumb one. But truly anyone could be the informant that could be working to ruin me, as I was a stranger in a strange land.
…
The interview with James Lipton was rolling on amazingly as I went over hopes and dreams and strategies and fears. James Lipton was a breath of fresh air from bumbling idiot reporters and fans. He didn’t interrupt me, he didn’t question my answers…much, he didn’t bombard me with tabloid questions; he just let me get MY story out. It was all going swell until…
James Lipton: Now, you have been given a lot of criticism for your actions, such as beating up a homeless man, a heavily racist vignette and other things. People have suggested that you have been losing…
I interrupted him once again. I was livid. I knew what he was going to say and it pissed me off that he would even insinuate such a thing.
John Gobble: What? That I have been losing my mind?!? Maybe I have! Maybe it is more that the world has been losing its wit. Maybe I am the only one who is in the right frame of mind. When you really think about it, life is ultimately pointless and the only reason for living is the one we give ourselves. I have personally made it a goal of mine to toughen the world up, to end this era where we feel so uncomfortable in our own skin, because there is absolutely no reason for it. There is no great creator who is going to judge you when you die and there is no reincarnation that will properly punish you for what kind of person you were, so stop trying to die clean and respectable because there is truly nothing respectable about the human race. On the inside we are all hateful people that would be saying the exact things I have been saying if it weren’t for this misconception that right and wrong are laws of nature and not of man. The human race decided as a collective what is wrong or right and now we can’t even agree on that. There are people out there that feel it is wrong to be gay, a whole group of people were decided to be a transgression just because some guy wrote it in a book thousands of years ago…and that is a widely accepted view…There are people out there who think it is right to throw acid in the face of women just because their face isn’t covered up and that is a whole culture of people…
James Lipton: John, listen…
John Gobble: *gobble gobble* NO! You listen! Why should I be judged if no one else is? Why should I suffer silence just because I am a star? I didn’t ask to be a role model for these kids, I just wanted to act. It’s not my fault that the American public is so obsessed with their idols that they have to listen to every word they say and then get upset when it doesn’t perfectly align with their beliefs. I don’t force my way into your house and listen into your conversations, yet the masses think it is okay for my privacy to be invaded and blasted on the news. BAWK!
James Lipton: Mr. Gable, please calm down…
I stood up and jumped up onto my chair.
John Gobble: I am an ar..bu…an ar…buuuu…an arrr…BUKAW!...Artist! I create for the betterment of the world and all I get is shat on. *Buk buk* But I refuse to take it anymore! I am going to act the way I want and no one, not even you James Lipton; you evil eyebrow having mother fucker, is going to stop me.
I hopped onto the table and strutted around kicking off any cups or papers.
John Gobble: Because I am John Gobble and I don’t need help, I need an Oscar!
And with that, I hopped down from the table and walked off stage… ‘Freak out on James Lipton’…Check.
John Gobble: And c'mon, Thundercats Are on the move, Thundercats are loose, Feel the magic, Hear the roar, Thundercats are loose?...What is that shit?
…
Seth Dominics was in an interview outside a carwash wearing a giant Pineapple suit. He had a giant grin like he usually does while nodding his head as if he was answering before they had asked
Seth Dominics: I know what you’re here to ask me about…Why am I wearing this giant Pineapple suit…you are here about Gable?…Oh, well, Gable was a cool guy. I thought so at least. Always was up to something and never really slowed down for anyone. He had his moments of laughter and he had his moments of anger…mostly anger…eighty-five percent of the time he was angry…maybe ninety-five. But yeah, he seemed like a pretty cool dude to me.
Humphrey sighed as he stared into space.
Humphrey Craig: He wasn’t always crazy…There were rare moments when he was actually a pretty happy, health, and kind but he didn’t feel that would make him who he wanted to be which was a star. So, he locked it away most of the time...Was it his loneliness in the end?...A man with Demons on his mind is never truly alone; he will always be surrounded by the people he hurt.
Alexis chewed on her hair as she seemed to zone out again.
Alexis Evanovich: Gable never really was Gable in his later years. He hated Gable, he would have preferred to be anyone else in the world. I think that is why he chose to be an actor, so he could be anyone else…
Atreyu shook his head and looked to the ground.
Benjamin Atreyu: I remember one day when he turned to me and said “What do you think the absolute nothingness of death looks like, pitch black or bright white?” I responded that “I couldn’t tell ya, Gable.” All he said was “I hope it is white so my soul is never given the chance to rest…
(Archive footage)
It was a worn out, low grade, tape that was mostly a blur. The handling of the camera was terrible as it jumped all around a trashed hotel room. The camera eventually landed on what appeared to be John Gable sitting on the bed with a beer bottle in his hand.
John Gable: Put that camera away.
Damien Pasnak: N-N-N..nooo way haha. This is sim behen the scene fooootage. Say some…somethin’ to the cam…the cam…
John Gable: Don’t puke…
Damien Pasnak: Camera…there, didn’t puke or nothin’…
John looked up to the camera.
John Gable: You want me to say something?
Damien Pasnak: Why do you think I asked…bee-yotch!
John Gable: Fine…
John stood up and swayed as he tried to stay standing.
John Gable: Wanna know something? I fear death. I lose hours at night thinking about it. I sometimes wonder what is the point to life and the answer is always the same. There is no point; we are just meet sacks hosting energy that wouldn’t even power a light bulb for a week. Ninety-nine percent of us accomplish nothing and the other one percent fuck up what they ARE able to do. And even when someone does do something right, they won’t live to see the affects. “The dead know only one thing; it is better to be alive”. What kind of sick game is this that we are forced to live through a fucking circus and then at the end we are told ‘Sorry, no refunds’? And please don’t give me that ‘life is what you make it’ crap because that is a bullshit excuse to ignore what life really is…a series of unrelated events that just keep spiraling on and on and on until the very end of civilization. If there is a point, I would like to know just so I don’t waste years of my life on nothing. So if there is a God, may he appear before me and explain in all his supposed wisdom why he makes us do all this. Maybe he finds it funny, maybe he finds it intriguing but all I know is that if I had the ability, I would spend my time making a world worth going into instead of being a cry baby and banishing all those who to take their own lives.
He looked up to the sky and flipped God the bird.
John Gable: If you don’t like how I choose to live, how about you come down here and give it a try…ya bum.
The tape stops.
(fin)
In the frame was Humphrey Craig in a grey suit, patting down the wrinkles and bends in his pink dress shirt. He leaned heavily on the left side of his seat. He looked less than amused as assistants ran around making sure the last preparations were done for the interview; the makeup, the lighting, etc. The interviewer took his seat just barely visible inside the frame of the camera. He was wearing a blue dress shirt with the cufflinks unbuttoned and the collar loose revealing the white undershirt.
Interviewer: Now, how would you describe John Gable as a person? What seemed to make him tick?
Humphrey Craig: John…had issues. He always seemed somewhere else like he was never paying attention to what was happening to him that very moment. Either he was in the past or pushing himself into a possible future. Sometimes you couldn’t tell where his head was. He had moments where he seemed to becoming from a different world. Constantly talking about humanity like it was some sort of domino set up ready to be pushed over. He had every success story in Hollywood memorized and dissected as if these were the laws to enter the holy land of show business. He would talk constantly about who did this and who met who when and he felt if he did these same things that a producer would be on the other end, you know what I mean? Most people were taking whatever work they could get, he was choreographing his career.
Alexis was in her own interview. She sat up straight in her plaid sweater vest, brushing her hair behind her ear as her eyes stared through the interviewer with a glazed over haze. The interviewer had to grab her attention out of la la land by snapping his fingers.
Alexis Evanovich: Sorry about that...I haven’t had a lot of sleep recently with all the travelling. Ummm…He was very difficult sometimes. After you knew him for a while, you started to wonder if it was all a façade. That maybe he is just trying to live the act and see how many people he can fool. But then an even scarier fact comes along: maybe he isn’t acting. It seemed to get worse when he joined WCF. I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking, but the week before the only thing he would talk about was how easy it was going to be to get the edge up on ‘a bunch of red neck loser’ and he would be in and out and on his way to Box Office Success in no time…
Present day…
Is it a joke? Maybe, but as far as I can see, everything I do is a joke. An actor trying to be a wrestler…that should have been my first clue. It doesn’t work backwards; you can’t go from one of the most sought after jobs then switch to this horse shit and expect that to send you up to the top. It’s just not the way things are done. I was in denial this whole time, I wanted to believe that my day in the spot light was coming but all I had in my future was further humiliation. First, I get two shots at titles and I lose both while getting stuck in a dead weight stable with a person I despised more than anyone in that whole locker room and to make matters worse I had to tag with him. And when I did finally win a title, it was the Television title…The lowest form of entertainment in this low brow world. Then as usual, I kept on talking about how I was going to change that and turn Television into a higher form of art and intellectuality, but the only tragedy and comedy here was me losing it to Cheetah Fighter, one of the hammiest and most dim witted wrestlers to ever step foot into the ring. I thought I had him beat and the whole thing wasn’t worth worrying about but like most of my life, I jammed my foot pretty hard into my mouth. I ended up losing and everything I had said was just hot air taken away by the wind. I couldn’t show my face out in public. ‘I’m totally gonna make this company money and put asses in the seat again’ ‘I am a big star, as soon as I cash in my success from the Television title, I am out of here.’ I never felt like a bigger fool in my life.
I had burnt all my bridges. Humphrey was pissed with me and kept calling me to bitch about something I did or something I said or will say. So after the revelation of the miserable conquest having failed, I had no other choice but to move out of the states and moved to the lowest point my career could take me (okay, second lowest if I am being honest, WCF…ah-hem, again I mean EPPW, is pretty bad.) which as all people in the business know, it is doing foreign independent films in Turkey. A few weeks ago, I found a script in my gym bag after returning from a match which contained a script that only had a number on the front. At first I just shrugged it off as I read the first four pages and decided it was absolute tripe. Turkey itself is the spoiled little brat that got all the toys without any of the discipline. They didn’t spend years perfecting and recreating an art form that was constantly going through changes because of technology, they came in at the end when everything was already figured out and all they had to do was slap a CGI bomb to the movie and watch the money come in. Turkish movies became a worse laughing stock than Bollywood. They had to make fake reviews and stuff the votes on any internet movie site they could find. They would constantly flood message boards trying to hype up their movies like everyone should know about it. All they got was a wag of the finger from the world. But now here I was sitting in some poorly built apartment that only had one bedroom, a dining room that also could be used as a living room and kitchen. The oven was rusted and only worked half the time and that was when I wasn’t trying to use it. The cupboards were crooked and the hinges were busted.
I found out the title of the movie was call “All of the Turkeys”. Where a man who suffered from schizophrenia and paranoia, so much so that he thought he was being turned into a turkey by an evil spirit of his past wife because he abandoned her with child out in the cold because he couldn’t handle his life at the time. Why Turkey? Well, the writer is a surrealist activist that loves metaphors and symbolism and felt that the country of Turkey has left its people in the cold or something like that, I am not sure, it is all in a different language and I can’t speak a word of it.
I deserve this…This was what my life came to and I deserved every last bit of it to be honest. I could feel every mistake crowding me as I sat at the dining…coffee…table with half cooked turkey bacon on my plate. Since last week, I had locked myself in my apartment to get ready for my part, only to come out for filming. I read books about Turkeys, watched their movements on the interwebs and even practiced my gobble…gobble gobble…BAWK!...It was what I had to do to keep from jumping off some cliff and smashing to the ground. It wasn’t that I wanted to be dead, I just liked imagining people crying over my casket and at least pretending they missed me. It was one of my favorite pastimes. What kind of star would I be if I didn’t enable the dramatics? But alas, I wouldn’t be able to see it then. Moving to Turkey was the next best thing I could do. I wondered if anyone was thinking “where’s Gable? I haven’t seen him in a while” “Oh, I am worried, he might be hurt or worse!” “I wish I was nicer and showed respect to him”. Yes, that was the ticket, but in reality I assumed that hardly anyone really noticed besides the people I owed money, because you only live in this life long enough to make enemies that rarely care or friends who can just as easily forget. Oh woe is me, how I take this spoiled meal and feast upon it like if dining on my own words. Oh woe is me, this poor fool who thought he could make a difference but ended up tasting the concrete of rock bottom like the millions and millions of others that have tried and failed. (Too dramatic?...)Though the difference between me and them is that I still have something to offer but maybe it isn’t going to be on a big stage or in a major motion picture. Maybe it will have to be on a super small scale movie, only to be appreciated once I have left this world like so many others. My art to be judged by the masses as eternal and unforgettable as I give them all of myself in the most powerful and most inspiring performances given to date. Yes, that will be me, one of the most prestigious kinds of artist: the kind that people regret not appreciating while he was in his prime. They will feel so guilty that they will start naming awards and charitable organizations after me and actors for years to come will study my amazing face as if they wished they could make it their own. But I would never be able to do it if people remembered me for being “that guy who lost to that crazy furry”. I had to break through that, but not through wrestling…yet. First I had to show people that I hadn’t bashed my brains in too hard and ruined my perfectly good brain.
Every day I was going to wake up turkey man and go to sleep turkey man. I had to believe I was this confused human being, no matter how preposterous it might have seemed. That was the sign of a great actor to be able to turn the sourest of tripe into something the world would never forget. Like those before me that had to do such foul roles in order to keep up interest in the public’s eye. I will rise up and force the world to see what it rejected so long ago. I now followed the path of Vincent Price who constantly had to work below what his skills deserved as he starred in so many cheesy B-horror flicks, that the world took him more for an ironic celebrity than an actual actor, which is a shame because the man had more class than the whole of Turkey in my personal opinion. I was mesmerized as he took these ludicrous situations and made me feel the darkest parts of humanity. His performance in “The Last Man on Earth” made me understand what it truly felt like to be absolutely alone in the world, to not even have the company of a dog to idly past the time with. In his performance in “The House on Haunted Hill”, he showed me how powerful hate can be when you smile. To be honest, Vincent Price got me through a lot of hardships in my career and he continues to do that today as I find myself to be alone. Even now as I sat here with a dinner I could not bring myself to eat and a T.V. that I could not understand no matter what channel I could change it to, I couldn’t help but remember him in the “Wax Museum” as he got his revenge to the ones that wronged him and turned them into his art. I remember him specifically in the scene that took place at the premiere of his Wax Museum and he was conversing on a piece he made out of a female (conveniently leaving that detail out) to the friend of who the said piece was made out of. His cool demeanor and his proud delivery all melded into a stinging hate and satisfaction which I think many people over looked because it was in a half-witted b-movie. Oh, I wish I could bring such a powerful dominance of the essence of humanity to the world and make them bow to me in pure admiration. The EPPW would have to give me a World title shot after that and I would so scornfully decline as I jump right past them and into the majors. But all I knew now was that those big movie roles weren’t for me at this point, even the one I had offered to me that I fought so hard to get was just all wrong and I had to decline.
Luckily enough, my crazy stint in wrestling didn’t go completely unnoticed, because right after my match with Mr…ummmm…Fighter…I was contacted and was asked to appear on ‘Inside the Actors Studio’ which is something I always dreamt about. I even had a list of things I wanted to get to while on the stage. I would spend hours of my day imagining all the stories I could tell and how intently those students would be listening to catch every word I would say. I would make them laugh, make them inspired but most importantly I would make them think about what they were doing wrong and how could they be more like me. I don’t think any actor who cares about their profession would ever give up a chance like this.
Two Weeks Later…
James Lipton: For the actors studio, I usually bring in someone who has established themselves either in Broadway or Hollywood including actors such as Brad Pitt, Alec Baldwin, Michael Caine, the list goes on and on. But being that it is easy to look back and see all the answers, I felt it would be beneficial for the students if I brought someone in who is currently in pursuit to find out exactly where he belongs in this profession. He is a man who felt the brisk five minutes in the spotlight before falling far far down into obscurity. You maybe recognize him if you are familiar with that of Professional Wrestling where he made his first attempt back up to the top. He has been criticized for his very blunt but questionable statements on Religion, Entertainment, violence against the homeless or anything else you can have an opinion on for that matter. No matter how you feel about his beliefs, you must admit that these outbursts have gotten him more publicity and might just be the ticket he needs to return to life in the limelight. Everyone, please welcome John Gable…
The career introspective chats were always so easy. The interviewer doesn’t want to call you out on anything; they handle you with care as you become the very representation of the center of attention. It was better than working on stage. Not only did you have an auditorium full of people, but you are also talking about yourself for an hour. It’s every actor’s dream. There I sat with brown feathers lining my sleeves and a beak glued over my nose and mouth with the waddle hang on it. My head was shaved bald so I could paint my face blue and then paint the rest of my head red.
John Gobble: Thank you, James Lipton. But it is Gobble now.
James Lipton: Right, in preparation for your new role you have changed your name to John…Gobble…Well, like always, let’s start at the begin…
Before he could finish, I jumped right into my answer.
John Gobble: Yes. I was born in Cleveland, Ohio. My mother was a painter and my Father was a clown. I realized I wanted to act when I was six. It was a buuu…buu…beautiful day in Febuu…febaww…February when my Mother brought me to a play in the park of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”. I was hit by the revelation and never looked back as I studied all I could about the art of deception.
James Lipton: …That’s not the information I g…
John Gobble: You of all people should know not to believe everything you read. So many rumors being flung up and down, back and forth, any which way and most of them are taken out of context or just straight up lies. You know those tabloids, am I right?
The Audience awkwardly chuckled. It was all good, I knew I was rewriting history, but real life is not as inspirational as an undeniable destiny. People don’t cling on to “I just decided it would be cool to be a star”. No, they want the Ryan Gosling “got my family through tough times” story to swoon over or the Edward Norton “acting was love at first site” story to make people feel better about not giving up their worthless passions.
James Lipton:…Oooookay. Why did you choose wrestling to be an outlet after you had such a terrible flop that many say was the end of your career and some are saying it might still be the end?
John Gobble: You see, I was looking at it all wrong. When I entered WCF, I thought it was going to be easy to stick out since I have one of those faces that just draws people in, but then I found out that I wasn’t dealing with the typical audience. These people were much lower developed than the rest of the nation. These people didn’t care if you were famous; they just wanted to see someone get hit. So, I couldn’t just use my superior understanding of trends and demographics to get me to the top…now I had to use my superiority in strategic thinking which seemed easy enough to me. Most of these guys are brain damaged and drunk anyways so I couldn’t imagine it being that hard. And for the most part it wasn’t. I was able to rise up through the under crust of mid-card status and work my way to a title. I had it all set up, once I showed these yokels I out did them at their own game, I was gonna use it to my advantage and sneak my way back into Hollywood…
But even with my career already laid out in the back of my mind, I had an emptiness inside me. The last conversation I had before leaving the states was with Alexis...Well, besides Atreyu who was helping me pack…but, his last words to me were “I thought you were buying me pizza”. I was at my old home in Ohio, trying to pack everything I could as fast as cinematically possible (which is five times as fast as “humanly” possible) when all of a sudden I heard a knock on the door. I tore my head away from my possessions and half consciously approached it. It all seemed like a dream looking back on it now, a sort of white border infested the vision of my memory (after all, every time you remember something, the memory itself is slightly reconstructed…and I have been thinking about this one a lot). As if an homage to James Cameron’s nightmare like use of it, I remember everything being slowed down as I reached for the door knob. I pulled the door open and there she was with her make-up running down her face and her turtle neck sweater all uneven and soaked with tears.
Alexis Evanovich: We need to talk, you son of a bitch.
Her lip quivered as she held back anymore tears. I stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. I had no qualms with a last minute discussion before I was to never see her again. She stomped in and saw Benjy plopped on the couch. That long holding back the tears was about as much as she could take before she put her face in her hands and let out a steam of tears so violently that I could see it start to build up a very small puddle on my wood flooring. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, I knew where it came from but my mind was so far gone from the moment and had already beaten me to Turkey. Though, even with my mind gone, I still noticed details that no amount of remembering could change. Her usually perfectly organized hair was just a mess as I imagined she must have been tearing it out in frustration for months on end trying to figure out what happened to her. I happened to know that she has missed quite a few meetings for her inherited non-profit organization and has even turned down a few Broadway roles. Her usual jewelry was off; even some piercings had healed over. It was obvious to me that she wanted these things to be noticed. She wanted to make a scene and make me feel terrible for whatever it was I had done and what others might have done to her. I knew my own kind and just because she wasn’t always an actress, didn’t mean she didn’t always act. Atreyu was wide eyed with confusion as this was his first time even meeting Alexis as far as I knew. I went back to my possessions and continued packing.
John Gable: Sorry Benjy. I guess I have an unexpected guest. Don’t worry she won’t be here long.
Alexis Evanovich: I just can’t deal with it anymore, it is tearing at me. I can’t sleep, I keep having these nightmares of being up at that mansion. I keep having nervous ticks that are becoming more apparent with each passing day.
She walked up beside me and looked up at me with her big ol’ beaten puppy eyes. I didn’t even bother to fake a flinch; I couldn’t care less what was going on in her head. I drained that out of my system when I spent that night in jail after she called the cops on me. As far as I was concerned, the mansion never existed…well, that’s until I hear the beats again…one, two, three, four…But anyways, I wasn’t going to entertain her hunger for attention and sympathy. If she wanted sympathy, she would have to go to Humphrey because I was all out. Humphrey, what an idiot. When had he ever been useful to me? He just kept on leeching off all I did. I am the one that steps into the ring, I am the one who puts my body on the line, and I am the one that has to go to the chiropractor. And what does he do? He complains to me about not being able to keep his big super star role. It wasn’t me who took it away and it wasn’t my fault that those who had control simply didn’t like me…I just have that factor about me. But I digress, they were both ganging up on me to fix THEIR problems when I had my own things to worry about. Alexis stared at me for a good thirty seconds without a word. God damn her, I could feel it burning holes in me without even seeing it…
Alexis Evanovich: And I worry about you Gable. It scares me what you might be doing out there…
I peered over towards Atreyu and chuckled under my breath.
John Gable: She worries about me…I save HER life and she worries about ME!
Her stared turned to disbelief as she choked to breathe through her tears. Damn was she was convincing...Could have out done Natalie Portman if she had the chance. She turned to Atreyu with a meager apologetic look trying to act like she was trying to be calm in front of a stranger.
Alexis Evanovich: Not to be rude, but could you please give us some privacy.
Benjamin Atreyu: Sure thing.
Atreyu you made an attempt to get up before I turned around and shouted out in defiance.
John Gable: NO! He can stay. He is helping me pack since no one else seemed willing to!...Now, sit down. She can’t boss you around.
Benjamin Atreyu: I think I really should be going now.
John Gable: SIT DOWN!
He dropped back down onto the couch as his confusion mixed with an awkward shock. She wanted to play the sympathy card? I was more than willing to give her something to really cry about. I turned back to what I was doing as I once again continued with my packing.
John Gable: Why must she waste time worrying about me!?! Did I ever ask her to watch out for me? Did I tell her that I need help? No, she just wants to play caretaker and feel all special so she could say she did something for someone else instead of her bratty, pathetic, unbearable self. She just wants to feel partly human because she doesn’t want to look at herself and see an absolute monster. Because that is what we both are…Monsters. We act because we crave the attention, we are self-obsessed and we want people to praise our names from the roof tops. And this whole traumatic experience isn’t a downside for her; It is an up, because now she can cry and cry and for once in her pathetic life not feel like a bitch because it actually means something. Well, what about all those years before when she would call me up and sob over the fucking phone because everyone that was around her was so sick of hearing her whine and cry about absolutely nothing. I honestly tried to help her with her invisible problem, I really did. But nothing was good enough to comfort the ‘ever so tormented’ Alexis…
Her face was beet red. She stood there no longer crying, but now clinching her fists and fighting the urge to knock me upside the head with a chair.
Alexis Evanovich: What about you?
I turned to her with a stern look on my face and like so many other times when I am beyond pissed, a twitch in my eye.
John Gable: What about me?
Alexis Evanovich: You say that like it is never about you. But the truth is when hasn’t it been about you? When do you ever think about anyone besides yourself except when you are criticizing and tearing them down? You act like you are the only one around here that matters. Guess what John, this is real life! There are no main characters and there are no awards for living it. What we dealt with wasn’t some work of fiction. It was real and scary and we both just suppressed it down. We need to talk about it or it is going to consume both of us.
John Gable: You have spoken to me plenty. You waste your time stuck in the past because you like it there, you like wallowing in the horror and for a long time I did too. I loved the feeling of being a victim for once rather than the cause of other’s pain, but now I don’t feel either because I have come to realize that the only person to blame is oneself. I am not going to spend every moment of my life delusional that someone or something is to blame for my shitty situation because the truth is that sometimes there is no one to blame, sometimes you just get a shitty hand and sometimes you even get a fatal one. But if you think I will just sit back and accept the guilt for your pain then you can just fuck off right now because I am not taking anyone else’s baggage to Turkey.
Alexis Evanovich: Wait, what the hell are you talking about?
John Gable: You’re a smart girl. Figure it out, talk to a few people. I accepted a movie role in Turkey because that is where my career needs to be right now. Away from all the industry bastards and harlots like you.
Alexis Evanovich: John, I am not trying to push my problems on you! I just hate waking up screaming and wondering if you are out there beating down another homeless person. I just think we have ignored it long enough.
I threw my hands up as if giving up on the conversation as a whole and directed my attention to Atreyu again.
John Gable: There it is. See how she is the tormented one and I am the one that needs to be worried about. she is such a fucking martyr. She always has been and always will be and again, I think it is because she likes hanging on the cross rather than getting out her message. Well, I am not a carpenter, so you came to the wrong house.
Alexis Evanovich: God damn it Gable, I killed a man in cold blood. They let us go. How does that not bother you?
Atreyu was horrified as Alexis pathetically blurted out the secret right in front of him. I grimaced as my shoulders sunk as I was hit with a heavy wave of resentment towards the she-bitch.
John Gable: Benjamin, I think it is best if you left for a little bit.
He zoomed out the door as I stared back at Alexis. We stood in my former living room silently as I listened to the door close.
Errrrrrrrr, tap-click-thump…
John Gable: It does bother me! Do you think I am just travelling around and having a good time after all that? Do you really think I am that dim witted!?!
Alexis Evanovich: Gable, stop it!
John Gable: No, you shut the fuck up and listen to me for once! I am done. I just suffered one of the most embarrassing losses of my career to some guy who doesn’t even understand the idea of reality. I had everything I had worked for served back to me on a silver platter by a half conscious human being who thinks he is some kind of fucking cat. My own stable disowned me after all the work I did for them and now I got some crazy illuminati rip-off on my ass trying to get me to join their Roman orgy conventions after they tried to knock me out of the competition for the guy YOU killed. I got my career to think about!
Alexis Evanovich: Fuck your career! Fuck that stupid scam you started. It has done nothing but become a nail for YOUR fucking cross. You want to talk to me about whiney assholes? You are the quintessential whiney little bitch! ‘Oh woe is me, I have to wrestle to keep my career a float!’ How can you even think about that when they continue to make me question who I can trust?
John Gable: I don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s your problem, I am moving to where they and you can’t get to me. Now go home and sob in front of your unreasonably big and retarded Star Wars poster collection that meant so fucking much to you. Just a sad excuse for friends if you ask me…
I turned away once again. I wasn’t even packing at this point. I just wanted to make her feel worse.
Alexis Evanovich: I got rid of them.
John Gable: hehe, yeah, you got rid of them…suuurrre you did. “I’m all grown up now, I throw away my favorite toy, please take me seriously.”
Alexis Evanovich: I lit them on fire last night. I couldn’t stand looking at them anymore. All I could think of was back at that party when he poked a hole right into our plan and knew even more than I did. It was no longer a collection; it was the horror of my life. I didn’t get rid of them out of a fit; I got rid of them because they no longer brought me the joy I once sought from them.
John Gable: No, I’m not going to shed a tear for you or your waste of thousands and thousands of dollars and once again, thanks for pinning one more thing on me.
Alexis Evanovich: I am not pinning anything on you! Who is the one being a martyr now? You pin all your failures on everyone but you. You say that there is no one to blame but one’s self but you don’t truly believe that. You blame Cheetah man or whatever, you blame WCF, you blame me and you blame Humphrey and we were just trying to help you…
John Gable: God damn it, I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone except myself. Now that that is settled, please leave my house before I force you out.
She didn’t display anything anymore. I didn’t bother to look but I could tell she just stared right through me like life had just all of a sudden disappeared. She turned and marched right out the door.
Five Years…
Alexis Evanovich: He hit a really low point where he couldn’t trust anyone. Most people had to walk on egg shells around him. I had never seen him so distraught in my life and I felt terrible that I didn’t know how to help…It was clearly evident to me that a major part of him just wanted to sink lower and see where it took him.
Atreyu was training in his own personal gym at home when he was asked for an interview. He stood next to a ring with nothing but his wrestling gear on.
Benjamin Atreyu: Not sure what was going on there. Teamed once and thought he was a pretty cool guy. Well, the more I got to know him, the more I could see he was really struggling to keep from drowning. I would see him having arguments with friends all the time, even could hear him arguing with himself in his dressing room. The guy was far from alright.
Two weeks…
We continued on to a few different topics, kind of brushing over some certain unpleasant parts of history…for now. But then he brought up the question about my new part in the movie.
James Lipton:…How about your most recent role. What can we expect?
John Gobble: Expect me to be the one to make it worth anything. I didn’t choose this project because it was right for me or that I thought it would be my big break, but that I thought I could make it better than they were even thinking. To be honest, I can’t stand the nonsensical surrealism that infests so much of independent films. Holy Motors was crap, Beyond the Black Rainbow lacked any sort of substance and don’t even get me started on The American Astronaut. These really bad plots all get by with some sort of major selling point but it is usually a bust in all other areas. Most Independent movies get by with either screenplay or acting or by chance an actually competent director which is funny because most independent movies fail at all of these things, so it is more that certain ones get by because people are so surprised there is something worth watching. But let me tell you a little story. I was standing on top of one of the houses we had set up for the film, with a view of the whole damn set. Damien, my translator, was standing up there with me. Now, something you got to understand about Damien was he never dealt with actors before so I messed with him every chance I got. I remember turning to him and saying “Hey, Damien…I think I am going to try and fly” and his jaw just drops and then he says all timid like “but…but…John…Turkeys can’t fly” and I am just trying to not burst out laughing as I get closer to the edge “But I want to try…because that’s what a turkey would do…” I began to flap my feathers and then the next thing I know, he tackles me down yelling “Don’t jump, don’t jump!”
Now the audience laughed with a bit more of enthusiasm as I continued to check off items from my list of “what to do during my career introspective”…Tell a funny story about a day on set?...Check…But that specific day was a lot worse than that story made out.
It was my first week in Turkey and I was rushed around everywhere. I had travelled out of the country before but I always had company to join me so it was never an issue, but now I didn’t have that luxury and what an experience it was. First, I was picked up by the production assistant Aydan Binici who didn’t speak a word of English, when I specifically asked for my translator instead. So, it created a little bit of a problem, especially because he spelled my name “Jun Gebal” which wasn’t the first time sadly. But from there we attempted to get to my apartment and then proceeded to get lost. Because of the language barrier it took me a very long game of charades before I was aware of the fact. We stopped at a gas station where he asked for direction and I picked up a lighter, but the gas station was halfway from being condemned and didn’t have Camels or Marlboros and I’d be damn if I was going to smoke L&Ms…ew. So, I was jet lagged and without smokes…why does this nonexistent God hate me so…But alas, that wasn’t the terrible tragedy that befell me that day.
After losing an hour, we finally arrived at my apartment but we had to hurry to the set because filming was to begin the day I arrived. When you aren’t worried about quality, you are be surprised how fast things can get started. The first scene we shot was of the ‘protagonist’ leaving his wife’s funeral. The scene itself seemed pretty pointless, it didn’t establish any sort of character and it didn’t further the story itself. It was just a really long walk to his car which from what Damien told me, Serkan ‘Mr. Important Director Man’ (as I have started calling him) Peynirci insisted it was the most important scene in the movie…
Damien Pasnak: He says that this scene is the reason why he joined the project. He just wants you to walk across to your car as slowly as you can. Says it sets an atmosphere or something…
Mr. Important Director Man was jabbering on behind him as he tried to interpret it.
Damien Pasnak: He says once you reach the car, you are suppose to pull out…a banana?
Damien turned back to the Serkan as they went back and forth, from what I could tell, trying to figure out what was lost in translation…I’m screwed. Then Damien turned back to me.
Damien Pasnak: Sorry, he said keys.
John Gobble: Look, I don’t need instructions on how to walk and unlock a car so can we just get a move on.
So we all got into our specific spots and waited for the director’s queue. I stepped out of the funeral home with my head low. I tried to give as much purpose to the scene through my absolutely flawless (if I may say so) interpretation of anguish and distraught. I fought with the mundane scene, looking at my car wantingly as if it were miles and miles away. Instead of just slowing down my walk for no reason, I projected a grimace and a limp to justify that my bones ached and my heart was weak. This man should be destroyed, not asleep even if he was the cause of her death. He should feel ever inch of his body collapsing to the whim of sorrow and defeat as he comes to the realization that he walked out never to be able to say good bye to someone he cherished. Why is it that these pretentious director types are more concerned with a few lousy moments of “anti-entertainment” instead of something that is conceivable and distinctive to the human condition? It seems to me that they are more inclined to ignore and punish the viewer for watching said film than to actually indulge them, but I digress. I walked across a dying lawn which had more patches of dirt than grass and a rusted up metal fence running along it. I was being followed alongside by a digital camera which I felt would most likely will smother my performance when it was finally projected onto a bigger screen, causing nasty pixilation that will result in making me look unappealing to anybody watching who might be looking for someone to take lead in a much more coherent and important film. Truly the Turks couldn’t tell their cinematics from their cinnamon sticks and I would be forced to suffer for their arrogance. But anyways, before I could finish the scene, a black limo rolled onto set without any care whom it might run into. The moment was ruined, the shot was lost and I knew I would be filming it again very shortly with a few “helpful” tips from Mr. Important Director Man. But at that moment, everybody turned their heads and jumped with glee as I was stupefied at who could be so important that they could enter unannounced and ruin a shot without even so much as an angry mob waiting for him. But the worst thing possible stepped from behind those limo doors. Henry Cohen, the producer I met on the cruise liner, the one that was trying to steal that movie away from Bill and is a part of that miserable faux cult. What the hell was he doing in Turkey and on the set of this lack-luster independent disaster? He wore an ugly all white suit with no tie. Sunglass covered his eyes and rings covered his fingers. He had a nasty smile filled with crooked teeth. I swear I zoned out for a good minute or two until he walked over to me and patted me on the shoulder.
Henry Cohen: Hey there Gable. Long time no see. I am glad we finally have the opportunity to work together. God knows I have been looking forward to it.
John Gobble: What the hell are you talking about?
His irritating hideous smile dropped into an insincere frown as I fought the urge to rip the skin off his pale face. I ripped my shoulder from his hand.
Henry Cohen: Why Gable, I thought you knew. I am personally funding this picture. At first I thought it was a stupid idea but once I heard you decided to join us, I had a complete one-eighty and saw the true…art…it could be.
John Gobble: I have taken a few blows to the head but I’m not stupid. You probably had this whole thing set up.
He chuckled as he looked to the ground and kicked the dirt. He looked back up with smile again as the rim of his sunglasses seem to hit just the right angle to bounce the sun’s rays right into my eyes.
Henry Cohen: Who do you think put that script in your bag in the first place? We are serious about you joining us. We truly feel you would be an asset…
John Gobble: Yeah, I would be the only one.
Henry Cohen: C’mon now. Why so hostile? We can be friends. I even got you a present.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Southern cuts, holding it out like there was no way I would deny it. It took a lot of will power not to snatch them right out of his hands but as soon as my arm even twitched at the thought, I would remember everything I went through and remember he was one of the people responsible. I simply turned and walked away but he continued to talk anyways.
Henry Cohen: Don’t think you are safe here John, you never know who might be one of us.
I halted in my tracks. He was right; it was hard to trust anyone anymore when any of them could be a member. So, I was at their mercy now. I continued walking and met up with Damien as he was filling his plate at the buffet. You would never expect he had the appetite that he did. He was a slim fellow and short too but he put away burgers like he had four stomachs. He turned to me with a smile as he crammed a biscuit into his face.
Damien Pasnak: What was that all about?
John Gable:…Don’t worry about it.
Then I had a thought…What if he was the one Henry was talking about? It would make sense. He was the only way I could get anything done around here and having him as a spy would be the kind of leverage he would need as it seemed no one else here was able to understand English. But he took a step and managed to catch his own shoelace and fell to the ground, sending his plate of food everywhere. If he was the spy, he was a pretty dumb one. But truly anyone could be the informant that could be working to ruin me, as I was a stranger in a strange land.
…
The interview with James Lipton was rolling on amazingly as I went over hopes and dreams and strategies and fears. James Lipton was a breath of fresh air from bumbling idiot reporters and fans. He didn’t interrupt me, he didn’t question my answers…much, he didn’t bombard me with tabloid questions; he just let me get MY story out. It was all going swell until…
James Lipton: Now, you have been given a lot of criticism for your actions, such as beating up a homeless man, a heavily racist vignette and other things. People have suggested that you have been losing…
I interrupted him once again. I was livid. I knew what he was going to say and it pissed me off that he would even insinuate such a thing.
John Gobble: What? That I have been losing my mind?!? Maybe I have! Maybe it is more that the world has been losing its wit. Maybe I am the only one who is in the right frame of mind. When you really think about it, life is ultimately pointless and the only reason for living is the one we give ourselves. I have personally made it a goal of mine to toughen the world up, to end this era where we feel so uncomfortable in our own skin, because there is absolutely no reason for it. There is no great creator who is going to judge you when you die and there is no reincarnation that will properly punish you for what kind of person you were, so stop trying to die clean and respectable because there is truly nothing respectable about the human race. On the inside we are all hateful people that would be saying the exact things I have been saying if it weren’t for this misconception that right and wrong are laws of nature and not of man. The human race decided as a collective what is wrong or right and now we can’t even agree on that. There are people out there that feel it is wrong to be gay, a whole group of people were decided to be a transgression just because some guy wrote it in a book thousands of years ago…and that is a widely accepted view…There are people out there who think it is right to throw acid in the face of women just because their face isn’t covered up and that is a whole culture of people…
James Lipton: John, listen…
John Gobble: *gobble gobble* NO! You listen! Why should I be judged if no one else is? Why should I suffer silence just because I am a star? I didn’t ask to be a role model for these kids, I just wanted to act. It’s not my fault that the American public is so obsessed with their idols that they have to listen to every word they say and then get upset when it doesn’t perfectly align with their beliefs. I don’t force my way into your house and listen into your conversations, yet the masses think it is okay for my privacy to be invaded and blasted on the news. BAWK!
James Lipton: Mr. Gable, please calm down…
I stood up and jumped up onto my chair.
John Gobble: I am an ar..bu…an ar…buuuu…an arrr…BUKAW!...Artist! I create for the betterment of the world and all I get is shat on. *Buk buk* But I refuse to take it anymore! I am going to act the way I want and no one, not even you James Lipton; you evil eyebrow having mother fucker, is going to stop me.
I hopped onto the table and strutted around kicking off any cups or papers.
John Gobble: Because I am John Gobble and I don’t need help, I need an Oscar!
And with that, I hopped down from the table and walked off stage… ‘Freak out on James Lipton’…Check.
John Gobble: And c'mon, Thundercats Are on the move, Thundercats are loose, Feel the magic, Hear the roar, Thundercats are loose?...What is that shit?
…
Seth Dominics was in an interview outside a carwash wearing a giant Pineapple suit. He had a giant grin like he usually does while nodding his head as if he was answering before they had asked
Seth Dominics: I know what you’re here to ask me about…Why am I wearing this giant Pineapple suit…you are here about Gable?…Oh, well, Gable was a cool guy. I thought so at least. Always was up to something and never really slowed down for anyone. He had his moments of laughter and he had his moments of anger…mostly anger…eighty-five percent of the time he was angry…maybe ninety-five. But yeah, he seemed like a pretty cool dude to me.
Humphrey sighed as he stared into space.
Humphrey Craig: He wasn’t always crazy…There were rare moments when he was actually a pretty happy, health, and kind but he didn’t feel that would make him who he wanted to be which was a star. So, he locked it away most of the time...Was it his loneliness in the end?...A man with Demons on his mind is never truly alone; he will always be surrounded by the people he hurt.
Alexis chewed on her hair as she seemed to zone out again.
Alexis Evanovich: Gable never really was Gable in his later years. He hated Gable, he would have preferred to be anyone else in the world. I think that is why he chose to be an actor, so he could be anyone else…
Atreyu shook his head and looked to the ground.
Benjamin Atreyu: I remember one day when he turned to me and said “What do you think the absolute nothingness of death looks like, pitch black or bright white?” I responded that “I couldn’t tell ya, Gable.” All he said was “I hope it is white so my soul is never given the chance to rest…
(Archive footage)
It was a worn out, low grade, tape that was mostly a blur. The handling of the camera was terrible as it jumped all around a trashed hotel room. The camera eventually landed on what appeared to be John Gable sitting on the bed with a beer bottle in his hand.
John Gable: Put that camera away.
Damien Pasnak: N-N-N..nooo way haha. This is sim behen the scene fooootage. Say some…somethin’ to the cam…the cam…
John Gable: Don’t puke…
Damien Pasnak: Camera…there, didn’t puke or nothin’…
John looked up to the camera.
John Gable: You want me to say something?
Damien Pasnak: Why do you think I asked…bee-yotch!
John Gable: Fine…
John stood up and swayed as he tried to stay standing.
John Gable: Wanna know something? I fear death. I lose hours at night thinking about it. I sometimes wonder what is the point to life and the answer is always the same. There is no point; we are just meet sacks hosting energy that wouldn’t even power a light bulb for a week. Ninety-nine percent of us accomplish nothing and the other one percent fuck up what they ARE able to do. And even when someone does do something right, they won’t live to see the affects. “The dead know only one thing; it is better to be alive”. What kind of sick game is this that we are forced to live through a fucking circus and then at the end we are told ‘Sorry, no refunds’? And please don’t give me that ‘life is what you make it’ crap because that is a bullshit excuse to ignore what life really is…a series of unrelated events that just keep spiraling on and on and on until the very end of civilization. If there is a point, I would like to know just so I don’t waste years of my life on nothing. So if there is a God, may he appear before me and explain in all his supposed wisdom why he makes us do all this. Maybe he finds it funny, maybe he finds it intriguing but all I know is that if I had the ability, I would spend my time making a world worth going into instead of being a cry baby and banishing all those who to take their own lives.
He looked up to the sky and flipped God the bird.
John Gable: If you don’t like how I choose to live, how about you come down here and give it a try…ya bum.
The tape stops.
(fin)