Post by Steve Orbit on Sept 25, 2013 19:29:18 GMT -5
August 25th, 2013
[Scene opens at Madison Square Garden. We go backstage. The WCF Revenge PPV is mid-way through. "The Mack" Steve Orbit is in his personal locker room, lacing up his boots. A blonde girl wearing a tight, blue tank top and cutoff jean shorts is standing behind him, lightly massaging his shoulders. After a few moments, there's a knock at the door.]
Steve Orbit: Who is it?
Voice: It's Frank.
[Orbit nods to the blonde, who opens the door. Frank Patrick Venable enters the locker room, his newly-won People's title in hand. Orbit and Frank shake hands.]
Steve Orbit: Congratulations, homie. I knew you could do it.
FPV: Thanks man-- how are you feeling?
Steve Orbit: I'm cool. Just tryin' to relax, you know what I'm sayin', before I go out there.
FPV: Yeah.
[Frank takes a seat beside Orbit.]
FPV: You're gonna beat Nathan, bro. I know you can do it. He's one of the toughest bastards I've ever faced in the ring, but you... you're on a freakin' roll, Steve. I don't think NvL, or anyone can stop you right now.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I'm on a roll-- he on a roll too, we a couple rollin' mother fuckers. Anyway, I got this.
FPV: I know you have a lot on your mind. I know... what happened, with Joey, that's gotta be weighing on you. Just focus on the match, and--
[Orbit snaps.]
Steve Orbit: I said I got this, aight? I've only lost one fuckin' singles match this year, homie. One. There ain't gonna be a second. NvL ain't shit, I got this.
[Orbit stares straight ahead at the wall. FPV looks at Orbit, a bit surprised by his reaction. He begins to get up.]
FPV: Cool... just wanted to wish you luck, bro. Later.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, later.
[Frank leaves. Orbit sighs, putting his head in his hands.]
Nathan said it would happen. I didn't believe him. I ain't never been one to dwell on the past. I've always been the mother fucker to keep it movin'-- last year at One, I had the worst night of my career. My first One, and I lost-- twice. Lost the US title and lost my shot at the Tag titles, but what did I do? I didn't think about those losses. Nah. I put my mother fuckin' gear back on and I went on a fuckin' winning streak, ending up with the World title in July. And not once along the way did I look back at One, not once did those losses cross my mind-- because I never doubted myself. I never question myself or my own talent, even in defeat. If I lose, it's because the other man was better than me-- on that night. I've always known that I can beat anyone at any given time. Anyone. Shit, I beat Jonny Fly, didn't I? And he's unbeatable. The Mack specializes in the impossible, don't nobody forget that shit.
Nathan said I would lose. Of course he did-- that's what every single one of us tells our opponent, week after week after week. Nobody cuts a promo talkin' about, "hey brah, you're gonna beat the fuck outta me and pin me this week", that's retarded. I didn't believe I would lose... but, I did. I lost to a man I've beaten before. Does that make him better than me? Fuck no, it means he was better than me on that night, at Revenge. Next time I face NvL-- and there will be a next time-- I'll beat the mother fucker. Title or no title, I'll beat his ass just because I know I can do it.
Here's what's fuckin' with me though. Everybody knows, when Steve Orbit arrived in the WCF, he made his first spark off winning the Television Title from Nathan von Liebert. That's a known fact, you know what I'm sayin'. Before our World title match, Nathan admitted that loss sent him into a downward spiral. He admitted that match changed him, that loss changed him. And he said the same thing was gonna happen to me. I didn't believe him... hell no, I ain't that type of mother fucker. I ain't no dweller, it is what it is. Shit happens, you learn from it, and you keep it movin'.
But I CAN'T STOP thinking about it, y'all. I can't get that fuckin' night out of my head. Here I am... supposed to be on vacation, I'm fixin' up the Club, I'm hangin' with bitches, I'm partyin'-- every night, it's the same thing. Every night, when I go to bed, I think about Revenge. I think about the final moments of the match...
FOUR!
FIVE!
Nathan is moving on the mat, Orbit is pulling himself to his feet with the ropes.
I was pretty fucked up. Nate was too. We had hit each other with just about everything we got. I had a thought... I said to myself, just get up, and kick this mother fucker in the head. He won't get back up. He can't. I knew if I could just get to my feet, and do the kick, I could be done with this mother fucker.
SIX!
Nathan is on all fours, Orbit is finally on his feet.
SEVEN!
Orbit breaks from his position, a second Crane Kick in mind.
Freddy Whoa: If this connects, it may be enough to put NvL away.
I couldn't even see straight, honestly. I coulda kicked the damn referee's head off at that point and not even realized what the fuck I was doin', but I saw Nathan get up and I snapped off the crane kick-- I knew something was wrong immediately. My foot hit the air, it didn't hit nobody's head.
Orbit goes for the kick, but Nathan ducks it!, grabs him...
Before I could react, and before I even realized what the fuck was going on, I was up in the air. I felt my body being lifted up, and I got dropped on my mother fuckin' head.
Erin Robbins: STRAIGHTJACKET DROP!
Nathan von Liebert hits it, perfectly! He falls down on top of Orbit and goes for the pin.
I saw the ref, barely. Everything was a blur-- all of my senses were numbed. I told myself to get up.
One..
Two..
Get the fuck up! I kept telling myself to get up, but I couldn't move. I was done. I was defeated.
Three.
Freddy Whoa: No... no.
Erin Robbins: YES! NEW WORLD CHAMPION!
Freddy Whoa: Not this man...
The bell rings as Nathan von Liebert's music begins to play.
Erin Robbins: Nathan von Liebert is your new World Champion!
Those final moments, they played over and over again in my mind. I feel like I have some kinda post-traumatic stress or some type of shit like that. I see Nathan's face, hear his voice when no one is around. It's fucked up. I ain't never been dealt a blow like this before-- it's true what they say about being on top. The view is fuckin' incredible, but the fall... the fall is the hardest, yo. I've had ups and downs my entire life-- we all have-- but this was somethin' different. This was an entire career, validated. All those matches... all the feuds, all he hard work and mother fuckin' dedication, it all paid off, and it paid off right. It was the ultimate high.
And then it was taken from me. It was ripped out of my mother fuckin' hands. I wish I had an excuse. I wish I could say I wasn't prepared, I ain't train hard enough, I had other shit on my mind. I was focused on the match, I was a hundred percent physically, mentally and spiritually invested in facing and defeating Nathan von Liebert. And I fuckin' failed. NvL got the best of me, and he took my World Title.
He said it would fuck with me, it would eat at me. And it has. This entire month I've been away, I been busy as hell. I been gettin' the Club set, doin' the proper permits and mother fuckin' paperwork, gettin' all my shit in order. It's been exhausting, and it's consumed almost every minute of every day. But still... still, there's been one thing on my mind. This ain't no type of vacation. This is a fuckin' nightmare and I can't wake up, y'all. And it hurts. I can't lie. It hurts like a mother fucker.
So what's a nigga to do, just sit around and wallow in this shit?
Nah. That ain't my style. That ain't Steve Orbit.
===== STATIC =====
UNFINISHED BUSINESS
Present Day
[Scene opens at "Hero's Ink" in Oakland, California. It's a medium sized tattoo parlor. Currently there's a beautiful Asian girl with long, flowing hair, face down on the table. Her pants are pulled down, exposing the majority of her round, perfect ass. The owner of the tattoo shop, Hero, is sitting next to her, prepping his equipment. "Da Bumble" by E-40 plays softly in the background-- it's Oakland, what you expect. Sitting in a chair, off to the side, is "The Mack" Steve Orbit. He's covered in gold, a lavender suit, hat with a feather, and 'gator boots. The usual. As the camera pans, we notice a light scar on the girl's ass cheek-- the letters NVL. Orbit speaks up before Hero begins the tattoo.]
Steve Orbit: You can cover that shit up, right?
Hero: Of course, dogg. It's nothin'.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, well, it was a lot fuckin' worse before I brought her to see my doctor. He did some kinda shit with a laser, tryin' to fix the scar-- it helped, but this is the only way to really cover it up.
Hero: What the fuck happened to her?
Steve Orbit: She got cut up, nigga. The fuck kinda question is that?
[Hero gets the point. He's not getting anymore information about the incident.]
Hero: Yeah, I'll hook her up. That scar is good as gone.
[Orbit gives Hero a pound.]
Steve Orbit: My man.
[Orbit takes a seat once again, pulling out a nailfile and going to work, as Hero goes to work on the girl. He places a peice of trace paper over the scar, showing the future tattoo-- it's a nice Steve Orbit logo. Hero begins to trace the outline with the ink gun, and we're done here. Fade out.
Fade in. Hours later, Orbit is back at what used to be Joey's house-- technically, the deceased is still the owner, but Orbit is in the process of transferring ownership of the home to himself. Orbit sits in the beautifully furnished living room, with the same girl, Rose, sitting next to him. She's laying face down on the couch, with part of her ass still exposed-- the protectant gel from the fresh tattoo glistens. She has a remote in hand, clicking through the channels on a large flatscreen.]
Steve Orbit: You know, I don't expect you to go back to work after all this bullshit. You set for life, girl, I'ma take care of you.
[Rose raises up on her elbows.]
Rose: I'm not interested in that. I want to work at the new club-- I love to dance. I love working for you.
[Orbit brushes her hair out of her face.]
Steve Orbit: Well... it's your call, baby. I'm just sayin', you ain't gotta worry about shit. Ever again.
[She smiles.]
Rose: Thanks.
Steve Orbit: I know I keep sayin' it, but I just gotta tell you one more time-- Rose, I am so, so sorry about what happened with Nathan. So sorry. And I'm sorry I couldn't... I couldn't...
Rose: It's... it happened, Steve. It happened, and it's over. He coulda killed me, you know?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, you right about that.
Rose: So it could be worse. Besides... I got a dope tattoo out of the deal.
[The two share a laugh. Orbit gets up from the couch.]
Steve Orbit: Aight, well, I'ma hit the sack. Make yourself at home-- anything you need, just holla at me.
[She smiles. Orbit walks off towards the bedroom.
That night, Orbit is fast asleep in his bed. He's snoring, loud. Just then, his phone begins to vibrate on the nightstand, and his ringtone ("P.I.M.P" by 50 Cent) sounds. Orbit wakes, half asleep, fumbling around until he finds the phone. Without looking at it, he answers.]
Steve Orbit: Hello?
[The voice on the other end causes him to shoot up.]
Steve Orbit: 'Vana?!
[He puts the phone on speaker, because... don't ask questions. It's so we can know what they're saying, alright? Just keep reading. Jeez.]
Havana Ginger: Heyyyyy!
[There's loud music and people shouting in the background. She's partying. It's the middle of the night.]
Steve Orbit: Where you at, girl? I ain't heard from you in a minute!
Havana Ginger: I'm in Vegas!
Steve Orbit: Shit, Sin City, huh? You behavin' out there?
Havana Ginger: Fuck no!
[Havana laughs. Orbit begins to look concerned... he can hear her jaw clenched through her voice. She's fucked up.]
Steve Orbit: Heh... still doin' the same old thing, huh?
Havana Ginger: What are you talkin' about?
Steve Orbit: Sniffin' that shit, right?
Havana Ginger: Oh, gimme a break, Steve. I just fuckin' called to say hi, don't give me that shit.
Steve Orbit: Havana... I miss you, girl. You aight? I think about you all the time. I... worry about you, you know what I'm sayin'? You aight?
Havana Ginger: Yeah, I'm aight, but you seriously killin' my fuckin' high right now--
Steve Orbit: Look, 'Vana, it's nice to hear from you. But it's the middle of the fuckin' night, and I'm tryin' to sleep, so why don't you call me in the morning?
Havana Ginger: Ok, I will. HEY, I heard you won the World Title! You're the World Champion, right? YEAHHH!!!
Steve Orbit: I did, yeah... but--
Havana Ginger: Don't tell me you lost that shit already.
[Orbit remains silent. Havana begins to bust out laughing.]
Havana Ginger: You lost it already?! Who the fuck are you, Jay Price junior?
[Orbit's nostrils flare. He puts his hand on his forehead.]
Steve Orbit: I gotta go, 'Vana. Call me tomorrow or somethin'. Or don't, whatever.
Havana Ginger: Chill the fuck ou--
[Orbit hangs up the phone and slams it on the nightstand. He punches the headboard before laying back down. He cusses before trying to go back to sleep...
The next day, we find ourselves in Big Bo's Barber Shop. Steve Orbit is in the chair-- the shop is empty, besides Orbit. Bo is a heavy set, older black guy with a bald head. He's giving Orbit a tight fade with the clippers.]
Big Bo: Crazy, huh-- a couple years ago, you was just a boy from around the 'hood. Now I gotta shut the whole fuckin' shop down just to hook you up in peace.
Steve Orbit: Shit, Bo. I'm still just a boy from around the 'hood. Ain't nothin' changed but my bank account, I'm still the same ol' nigga.
Big Bo: Yeah? Well, you still comin' to see me to get cut, so I guess you ain't changed all that much. I ain't complainin', don't hear it like that. But now-- I mean, you STEVE ORBIT! You a damn world-wide star. We proud of you, dogg. On the real.
Steve Orbit: Hey man, I appreciate that.
Big Bo: So... I mean, what's up? You still fightin' the good fight or what? I heard you on break.
Steve Orbit: I need it, homie. I'm comin' off a year and a half stretch. Most these dudes go for six, seven, eight months-- tops. I seen mother fuckers come and go two and three times while I was still on my first run, you know what I'm sayin'? I'm due, yo. I need to just be layin' up in it... gettin' Club Violet back up off the ground, and countin' this mother fuckin' money, feel me?
Big Bo: I hear you. Tell you what, bro, it's always good to see a black owned business in our community. That's what we need-- that's what these young people need to be doin' with they lives, tryin' to build shit, tryin' to own their own business. Fuck workin' for somebody else... makin' somebody else rich off your hard work, and your blood, sweat and tears-- fuck all that, dogg. For real.
Steve Orbit: I know. Feels good to be my own boss, I ain't gon' lie.
[There's a few moments of silence as Bo lines up Orbit's hair.]
Big Bo: You think you gonna miss it, though? Wrestling, I mean.
Steve Orbit: ... It's like this, man, when you passionate about something, you ain't gonna feel right unless you doin' it. I miss the competition, you know what I'm sayin'... pushin' myself every week and seein' how far I can go. Seein' how much I can take. There's somethin' real... satisfying, even in defeat. There's a satisfaction knowing that I pushed myself beyond my own limits, that I set the fuckin' bar even higher for myself. I'm in the gym, I'm doin' my thing-- but it's important to take time and reflect, you know what I'm sayin'? It's important to take a step back once in a while, no matter what you doin'. Sometimes you can get caught up in the whirlwind, and when you up in the mix, it's not the same as when you can break away from that and take a look at it from the outside, from another perspective, you feel me?
Big Bo: Yeah... some good insight right there.
Steve Orbit: But still... this shit ain't the same, man. Every week I watch what happens on Slam, and I just... I feel the urge, I feel like I should be out there makin' shit happen. I dunno if that feeling is gonna go away or what, we'll see.
Big Bo: A nigga like you? Nah... you ain't gonna feel right again until you get back in that ring and do what the fuck you do. That's for real. Why you think I been standin' at this chair for thirty damn years? A man can't change who he is, dogg. You can change on the outside, but that's just to fool everyone else. You can't fool yourself. You built to be a professional wrestler, Steve. That's who you are, and that's who you always gonna be. Take your break, rest up, get your mind right... and when you good, you go back there and you set that mother fucker on fire.
[Bo turns off the clippers and brushes the hair off of Orbit's head, face and neck. He puts some aftershave on a paper towel and rubs it around Orbit's hairline. He whips the apron off, and Orbit gets out of the chair.]
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I'ma do that. When I'm ready.
Big Bo: Look at me, man--
[Orbit looks Bo in the eye.]
Big Bo: You ready right now. It's written all over your face.
[Orbit grins. He pulls out his money clip and hands Bo a hundred dollar bill. Bo goes into the register to get change.]
Steve Orbit: Nah, we good.
[Bo and Orbit shake hands and lean in for a hug.]
Steve Orbit: I'ma see you around, aight?
Big Bo: I doubt that.
[Orbit just smiles, before walking out of the shop. Bo flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN...
That night, Orbit sits at Joey's house. He's alone in the bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed. He's staring at the iPhone in his hand... and he appears to be in deep thought. After a few moments, he slides his finger across the phone, juggles through it for a moment, and then puts the phone on speaker. It rings a few times.]
Cellphone: WHOA! This is Freddy, you know what to do after the tone! *BEEP*
Steve Orbit: Freddy, it's Steve Orbit. Hit me back when you get a chance... I got somethin' I need to talk to you about. Call me back. Peace.
[Orbit ends the call, and lays back onto the bed. He lets out a sigh of relief.]
Steve Orbit: Here we go again...
[And we fade out.]
I took a break because that's what I'm suppose to do. I watched other people on the roster do it. You come, you get booked for a few months, and then you take a few months off-- you relax, you heal, you enjoy some time to yourself, with your family, whatever. Just like any job, any profession, you take time off. Your whole life can't be work, right?
That's where I'm different. I realize it now. That's what sets me apart from these fools. I was raised in the mother fuckin' pimp game. In the pimp game, you get money 24/7. You don't take a mother fuckin' day off, what? I was raised on the streets-- you think the dealers on the corner be takin' time off? You think they work nine to five, you think they be takin' off Christmas and mother fuckin' Thanksgiving and shit? Fuck no. I'm a mother fuckin' hustler, yo. That's what makes me different from the rest of the roster, the rest of these mother fuckin' squares. They wanna punch a card in and out. I don't punch no card. My work is my life, and my life is my work. There ain't no separating the two. I didn't come to this company to go on vacation, I came here to be the best mother fuckin' professional wrestler on the planet. Not when I'm "on the clock"-- but ALL the time. 24/7, 365.
I wasn't comfortable being away from the ring. I knew I would be back real soon. All it took, really, was to hear that the World Title was on the line in the WAR match. That was all I needed to hear, y'all. I'm coming back for my spot-- the top spot. The World Champion spot belongs to "The Mack" Steve Orbit. Last year I shined at WAR-- this year, I'm takin' it home.
The Mack is back, fuck what you heard.
[Scene opens at Madison Square Garden. We go backstage. The WCF Revenge PPV is mid-way through. "The Mack" Steve Orbit is in his personal locker room, lacing up his boots. A blonde girl wearing a tight, blue tank top and cutoff jean shorts is standing behind him, lightly massaging his shoulders. After a few moments, there's a knock at the door.]
Steve Orbit: Who is it?
Voice: It's Frank.
[Orbit nods to the blonde, who opens the door. Frank Patrick Venable enters the locker room, his newly-won People's title in hand. Orbit and Frank shake hands.]
Steve Orbit: Congratulations, homie. I knew you could do it.
FPV: Thanks man-- how are you feeling?
Steve Orbit: I'm cool. Just tryin' to relax, you know what I'm sayin', before I go out there.
FPV: Yeah.
[Frank takes a seat beside Orbit.]
FPV: You're gonna beat Nathan, bro. I know you can do it. He's one of the toughest bastards I've ever faced in the ring, but you... you're on a freakin' roll, Steve. I don't think NvL, or anyone can stop you right now.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I'm on a roll-- he on a roll too, we a couple rollin' mother fuckers. Anyway, I got this.
FPV: I know you have a lot on your mind. I know... what happened, with Joey, that's gotta be weighing on you. Just focus on the match, and--
[Orbit snaps.]
Steve Orbit: I said I got this, aight? I've only lost one fuckin' singles match this year, homie. One. There ain't gonna be a second. NvL ain't shit, I got this.
[Orbit stares straight ahead at the wall. FPV looks at Orbit, a bit surprised by his reaction. He begins to get up.]
FPV: Cool... just wanted to wish you luck, bro. Later.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, later.
[Frank leaves. Orbit sighs, putting his head in his hands.]
Nathan said it would happen. I didn't believe him. I ain't never been one to dwell on the past. I've always been the mother fucker to keep it movin'-- last year at One, I had the worst night of my career. My first One, and I lost-- twice. Lost the US title and lost my shot at the Tag titles, but what did I do? I didn't think about those losses. Nah. I put my mother fuckin' gear back on and I went on a fuckin' winning streak, ending up with the World title in July. And not once along the way did I look back at One, not once did those losses cross my mind-- because I never doubted myself. I never question myself or my own talent, even in defeat. If I lose, it's because the other man was better than me-- on that night. I've always known that I can beat anyone at any given time. Anyone. Shit, I beat Jonny Fly, didn't I? And he's unbeatable. The Mack specializes in the impossible, don't nobody forget that shit.
Nathan said I would lose. Of course he did-- that's what every single one of us tells our opponent, week after week after week. Nobody cuts a promo talkin' about, "hey brah, you're gonna beat the fuck outta me and pin me this week", that's retarded. I didn't believe I would lose... but, I did. I lost to a man I've beaten before. Does that make him better than me? Fuck no, it means he was better than me on that night, at Revenge. Next time I face NvL-- and there will be a next time-- I'll beat the mother fucker. Title or no title, I'll beat his ass just because I know I can do it.
Here's what's fuckin' with me though. Everybody knows, when Steve Orbit arrived in the WCF, he made his first spark off winning the Television Title from Nathan von Liebert. That's a known fact, you know what I'm sayin'. Before our World title match, Nathan admitted that loss sent him into a downward spiral. He admitted that match changed him, that loss changed him. And he said the same thing was gonna happen to me. I didn't believe him... hell no, I ain't that type of mother fucker. I ain't no dweller, it is what it is. Shit happens, you learn from it, and you keep it movin'.
But I CAN'T STOP thinking about it, y'all. I can't get that fuckin' night out of my head. Here I am... supposed to be on vacation, I'm fixin' up the Club, I'm hangin' with bitches, I'm partyin'-- every night, it's the same thing. Every night, when I go to bed, I think about Revenge. I think about the final moments of the match...
FOUR!
FIVE!
Nathan is moving on the mat, Orbit is pulling himself to his feet with the ropes.
I was pretty fucked up. Nate was too. We had hit each other with just about everything we got. I had a thought... I said to myself, just get up, and kick this mother fucker in the head. He won't get back up. He can't. I knew if I could just get to my feet, and do the kick, I could be done with this mother fucker.
SIX!
Nathan is on all fours, Orbit is finally on his feet.
SEVEN!
Orbit breaks from his position, a second Crane Kick in mind.
Freddy Whoa: If this connects, it may be enough to put NvL away.
I couldn't even see straight, honestly. I coulda kicked the damn referee's head off at that point and not even realized what the fuck I was doin', but I saw Nathan get up and I snapped off the crane kick-- I knew something was wrong immediately. My foot hit the air, it didn't hit nobody's head.
Orbit goes for the kick, but Nathan ducks it!, grabs him...
Before I could react, and before I even realized what the fuck was going on, I was up in the air. I felt my body being lifted up, and I got dropped on my mother fuckin' head.
Erin Robbins: STRAIGHTJACKET DROP!
Nathan von Liebert hits it, perfectly! He falls down on top of Orbit and goes for the pin.
I saw the ref, barely. Everything was a blur-- all of my senses were numbed. I told myself to get up.
One..
Two..
Get the fuck up! I kept telling myself to get up, but I couldn't move. I was done. I was defeated.
Three.
Freddy Whoa: No... no.
Erin Robbins: YES! NEW WORLD CHAMPION!
Freddy Whoa: Not this man...
The bell rings as Nathan von Liebert's music begins to play.
Erin Robbins: Nathan von Liebert is your new World Champion!
Those final moments, they played over and over again in my mind. I feel like I have some kinda post-traumatic stress or some type of shit like that. I see Nathan's face, hear his voice when no one is around. It's fucked up. I ain't never been dealt a blow like this before-- it's true what they say about being on top. The view is fuckin' incredible, but the fall... the fall is the hardest, yo. I've had ups and downs my entire life-- we all have-- but this was somethin' different. This was an entire career, validated. All those matches... all the feuds, all he hard work and mother fuckin' dedication, it all paid off, and it paid off right. It was the ultimate high.
And then it was taken from me. It was ripped out of my mother fuckin' hands. I wish I had an excuse. I wish I could say I wasn't prepared, I ain't train hard enough, I had other shit on my mind. I was focused on the match, I was a hundred percent physically, mentally and spiritually invested in facing and defeating Nathan von Liebert. And I fuckin' failed. NvL got the best of me, and he took my World Title.
He said it would fuck with me, it would eat at me. And it has. This entire month I've been away, I been busy as hell. I been gettin' the Club set, doin' the proper permits and mother fuckin' paperwork, gettin' all my shit in order. It's been exhausting, and it's consumed almost every minute of every day. But still... still, there's been one thing on my mind. This ain't no type of vacation. This is a fuckin' nightmare and I can't wake up, y'all. And it hurts. I can't lie. It hurts like a mother fucker.
So what's a nigga to do, just sit around and wallow in this shit?
Nah. That ain't my style. That ain't Steve Orbit.
===== STATIC =====
UNFINISHED BUSINESS
Present Day
[Scene opens at "Hero's Ink" in Oakland, California. It's a medium sized tattoo parlor. Currently there's a beautiful Asian girl with long, flowing hair, face down on the table. Her pants are pulled down, exposing the majority of her round, perfect ass. The owner of the tattoo shop, Hero, is sitting next to her, prepping his equipment. "Da Bumble" by E-40 plays softly in the background-- it's Oakland, what you expect. Sitting in a chair, off to the side, is "The Mack" Steve Orbit. He's covered in gold, a lavender suit, hat with a feather, and 'gator boots. The usual. As the camera pans, we notice a light scar on the girl's ass cheek-- the letters NVL. Orbit speaks up before Hero begins the tattoo.]
Steve Orbit: You can cover that shit up, right?
Hero: Of course, dogg. It's nothin'.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, well, it was a lot fuckin' worse before I brought her to see my doctor. He did some kinda shit with a laser, tryin' to fix the scar-- it helped, but this is the only way to really cover it up.
Hero: What the fuck happened to her?
Steve Orbit: She got cut up, nigga. The fuck kinda question is that?
[Hero gets the point. He's not getting anymore information about the incident.]
Hero: Yeah, I'll hook her up. That scar is good as gone.
[Orbit gives Hero a pound.]
Steve Orbit: My man.
[Orbit takes a seat once again, pulling out a nailfile and going to work, as Hero goes to work on the girl. He places a peice of trace paper over the scar, showing the future tattoo-- it's a nice Steve Orbit logo. Hero begins to trace the outline with the ink gun, and we're done here. Fade out.
Fade in. Hours later, Orbit is back at what used to be Joey's house-- technically, the deceased is still the owner, but Orbit is in the process of transferring ownership of the home to himself. Orbit sits in the beautifully furnished living room, with the same girl, Rose, sitting next to him. She's laying face down on the couch, with part of her ass still exposed-- the protectant gel from the fresh tattoo glistens. She has a remote in hand, clicking through the channels on a large flatscreen.]
Steve Orbit: You know, I don't expect you to go back to work after all this bullshit. You set for life, girl, I'ma take care of you.
[Rose raises up on her elbows.]
Rose: I'm not interested in that. I want to work at the new club-- I love to dance. I love working for you.
[Orbit brushes her hair out of her face.]
Steve Orbit: Well... it's your call, baby. I'm just sayin', you ain't gotta worry about shit. Ever again.
[She smiles.]
Rose: Thanks.
Steve Orbit: I know I keep sayin' it, but I just gotta tell you one more time-- Rose, I am so, so sorry about what happened with Nathan. So sorry. And I'm sorry I couldn't... I couldn't...
Rose: It's... it happened, Steve. It happened, and it's over. He coulda killed me, you know?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, you right about that.
Rose: So it could be worse. Besides... I got a dope tattoo out of the deal.
[The two share a laugh. Orbit gets up from the couch.]
Steve Orbit: Aight, well, I'ma hit the sack. Make yourself at home-- anything you need, just holla at me.
[She smiles. Orbit walks off towards the bedroom.
That night, Orbit is fast asleep in his bed. He's snoring, loud. Just then, his phone begins to vibrate on the nightstand, and his ringtone ("P.I.M.P" by 50 Cent) sounds. Orbit wakes, half asleep, fumbling around until he finds the phone. Without looking at it, he answers.]
Steve Orbit: Hello?
[The voice on the other end causes him to shoot up.]
Steve Orbit: 'Vana?!
[He puts the phone on speaker, because... don't ask questions. It's so we can know what they're saying, alright? Just keep reading. Jeez.]
Havana Ginger: Heyyyyy!
[There's loud music and people shouting in the background. She's partying. It's the middle of the night.]
Steve Orbit: Where you at, girl? I ain't heard from you in a minute!
Havana Ginger: I'm in Vegas!
Steve Orbit: Shit, Sin City, huh? You behavin' out there?
Havana Ginger: Fuck no!
[Havana laughs. Orbit begins to look concerned... he can hear her jaw clenched through her voice. She's fucked up.]
Steve Orbit: Heh... still doin' the same old thing, huh?
Havana Ginger: What are you talkin' about?
Steve Orbit: Sniffin' that shit, right?
Havana Ginger: Oh, gimme a break, Steve. I just fuckin' called to say hi, don't give me that shit.
Steve Orbit: Havana... I miss you, girl. You aight? I think about you all the time. I... worry about you, you know what I'm sayin'? You aight?
Havana Ginger: Yeah, I'm aight, but you seriously killin' my fuckin' high right now--
Steve Orbit: Look, 'Vana, it's nice to hear from you. But it's the middle of the fuckin' night, and I'm tryin' to sleep, so why don't you call me in the morning?
Havana Ginger: Ok, I will. HEY, I heard you won the World Title! You're the World Champion, right? YEAHHH!!!
Steve Orbit: I did, yeah... but--
Havana Ginger: Don't tell me you lost that shit already.
[Orbit remains silent. Havana begins to bust out laughing.]
Havana Ginger: You lost it already?! Who the fuck are you, Jay Price junior?
[Orbit's nostrils flare. He puts his hand on his forehead.]
Steve Orbit: I gotta go, 'Vana. Call me tomorrow or somethin'. Or don't, whatever.
Havana Ginger: Chill the fuck ou--
[Orbit hangs up the phone and slams it on the nightstand. He punches the headboard before laying back down. He cusses before trying to go back to sleep...
The next day, we find ourselves in Big Bo's Barber Shop. Steve Orbit is in the chair-- the shop is empty, besides Orbit. Bo is a heavy set, older black guy with a bald head. He's giving Orbit a tight fade with the clippers.]
Big Bo: Crazy, huh-- a couple years ago, you was just a boy from around the 'hood. Now I gotta shut the whole fuckin' shop down just to hook you up in peace.
Steve Orbit: Shit, Bo. I'm still just a boy from around the 'hood. Ain't nothin' changed but my bank account, I'm still the same ol' nigga.
Big Bo: Yeah? Well, you still comin' to see me to get cut, so I guess you ain't changed all that much. I ain't complainin', don't hear it like that. But now-- I mean, you STEVE ORBIT! You a damn world-wide star. We proud of you, dogg. On the real.
Steve Orbit: Hey man, I appreciate that.
Big Bo: So... I mean, what's up? You still fightin' the good fight or what? I heard you on break.
Steve Orbit: I need it, homie. I'm comin' off a year and a half stretch. Most these dudes go for six, seven, eight months-- tops. I seen mother fuckers come and go two and three times while I was still on my first run, you know what I'm sayin'? I'm due, yo. I need to just be layin' up in it... gettin' Club Violet back up off the ground, and countin' this mother fuckin' money, feel me?
Big Bo: I hear you. Tell you what, bro, it's always good to see a black owned business in our community. That's what we need-- that's what these young people need to be doin' with they lives, tryin' to build shit, tryin' to own their own business. Fuck workin' for somebody else... makin' somebody else rich off your hard work, and your blood, sweat and tears-- fuck all that, dogg. For real.
Steve Orbit: I know. Feels good to be my own boss, I ain't gon' lie.
[There's a few moments of silence as Bo lines up Orbit's hair.]
Big Bo: You think you gonna miss it, though? Wrestling, I mean.
Steve Orbit: ... It's like this, man, when you passionate about something, you ain't gonna feel right unless you doin' it. I miss the competition, you know what I'm sayin'... pushin' myself every week and seein' how far I can go. Seein' how much I can take. There's somethin' real... satisfying, even in defeat. There's a satisfaction knowing that I pushed myself beyond my own limits, that I set the fuckin' bar even higher for myself. I'm in the gym, I'm doin' my thing-- but it's important to take time and reflect, you know what I'm sayin'? It's important to take a step back once in a while, no matter what you doin'. Sometimes you can get caught up in the whirlwind, and when you up in the mix, it's not the same as when you can break away from that and take a look at it from the outside, from another perspective, you feel me?
Big Bo: Yeah... some good insight right there.
Steve Orbit: But still... this shit ain't the same, man. Every week I watch what happens on Slam, and I just... I feel the urge, I feel like I should be out there makin' shit happen. I dunno if that feeling is gonna go away or what, we'll see.
Big Bo: A nigga like you? Nah... you ain't gonna feel right again until you get back in that ring and do what the fuck you do. That's for real. Why you think I been standin' at this chair for thirty damn years? A man can't change who he is, dogg. You can change on the outside, but that's just to fool everyone else. You can't fool yourself. You built to be a professional wrestler, Steve. That's who you are, and that's who you always gonna be. Take your break, rest up, get your mind right... and when you good, you go back there and you set that mother fucker on fire.
[Bo turns off the clippers and brushes the hair off of Orbit's head, face and neck. He puts some aftershave on a paper towel and rubs it around Orbit's hairline. He whips the apron off, and Orbit gets out of the chair.]
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I'ma do that. When I'm ready.
Big Bo: Look at me, man--
[Orbit looks Bo in the eye.]
Big Bo: You ready right now. It's written all over your face.
[Orbit grins. He pulls out his money clip and hands Bo a hundred dollar bill. Bo goes into the register to get change.]
Steve Orbit: Nah, we good.
[Bo and Orbit shake hands and lean in for a hug.]
Steve Orbit: I'ma see you around, aight?
Big Bo: I doubt that.
[Orbit just smiles, before walking out of the shop. Bo flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN...
That night, Orbit sits at Joey's house. He's alone in the bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed. He's staring at the iPhone in his hand... and he appears to be in deep thought. After a few moments, he slides his finger across the phone, juggles through it for a moment, and then puts the phone on speaker. It rings a few times.]
Cellphone: WHOA! This is Freddy, you know what to do after the tone! *BEEP*
Steve Orbit: Freddy, it's Steve Orbit. Hit me back when you get a chance... I got somethin' I need to talk to you about. Call me back. Peace.
[Orbit ends the call, and lays back onto the bed. He lets out a sigh of relief.]
Steve Orbit: Here we go again...
[And we fade out.]
I took a break because that's what I'm suppose to do. I watched other people on the roster do it. You come, you get booked for a few months, and then you take a few months off-- you relax, you heal, you enjoy some time to yourself, with your family, whatever. Just like any job, any profession, you take time off. Your whole life can't be work, right?
That's where I'm different. I realize it now. That's what sets me apart from these fools. I was raised in the mother fuckin' pimp game. In the pimp game, you get money 24/7. You don't take a mother fuckin' day off, what? I was raised on the streets-- you think the dealers on the corner be takin' time off? You think they work nine to five, you think they be takin' off Christmas and mother fuckin' Thanksgiving and shit? Fuck no. I'm a mother fuckin' hustler, yo. That's what makes me different from the rest of the roster, the rest of these mother fuckin' squares. They wanna punch a card in and out. I don't punch no card. My work is my life, and my life is my work. There ain't no separating the two. I didn't come to this company to go on vacation, I came here to be the best mother fuckin' professional wrestler on the planet. Not when I'm "on the clock"-- but ALL the time. 24/7, 365.
I wasn't comfortable being away from the ring. I knew I would be back real soon. All it took, really, was to hear that the World Title was on the line in the WAR match. That was all I needed to hear, y'all. I'm coming back for my spot-- the top spot. The World Champion spot belongs to "The Mack" Steve Orbit. Last year I shined at WAR-- this year, I'm takin' it home.
The Mack is back, fuck what you heard.