Post by Joey Flash on Dec 17, 2014 15:56:07 GMT -5
(OOC: I’ve had so much fun in the build up to this and writing this RP, I’ve enjoyed every second of this little feud and loved working with Graham, Occulo’s handler. Let’s hit this motherfucker out the park. So Graham, this is dedicated to your hard and stellar work xxx)
The Night of Slam...
Hank Brown was stood almost like a statue staring at the door of Joey Flash’s locker room, ‘Pound for Pound #1’ written on a large piece of paper on the door in front of him. He reached out and ripped the paper off before tearing it to shreds.
Hank: Piece of shit.
Hank opened the door without knocking to find the lone figure of the WCF Television champion sat once more on his single chair in the room, towel covering his head.
Hank: What the fuck was that? You went overboard.
No response from Joey, the flick of a match lighting under the towel, Joey extends his hand out and we see it is still covered in blood from Slam. He moves the match underneath his right hand, toward his index finger and holds it there for a few seconds until a drop of blood falls onto it and snuffs the flame out. Joey drops the match to the floor, to join about fifteen burnt out matches that are at his feet. Joey finally looks up from under the towel toward Hank and the camera crew.
Joey: You didn’t have to watch.
Hank: Bullshit, what the hell did that prove?
Joey slowly stands up, and the towel drops from his head to the floor, Joey is staring a hole through Brown.
Joey: Watch your tone.
Hank: You mother-
Joey: You don’t want to finish that sentence.
Hank quickly cuts himself off and breaks his gaze from Joey.
Joey: If you come in here with a swollen ego like this again, I will end you, do you understand?
Hank stays silent.
Joey: Say you understand Hank.
Hank: I-I understand.
Joey: Good.
He slides back down to his chair and looks up at the ceiling.
Hank: But Occulo-
Joey: I don’t think you’re confused Hank, I reckon you didn’t think that lil Joey had it in him. See, that’s the problem here isn’t it. This is real life, not a fantasy tale, ain’t no white knights, ain’t no evil monsters.
You’re angry; you’re scared because I’m not a monster. I’m a man you’ve talked to, and you got comfortable with and shared a laugh with, fuck you’re even on my Christmas card list. But you’re sweating now, and you’re on edge. When things get real, you can’t deal with it. I could as easily shake your hand and call you friend as put a bullet in your head, and that’s a scary thought isn’t it?
Joey picks the towel up and covers his head once more.
Joey: You might think that it’s one way, but trust me. It’s almost always the other way. Get out.
Hank looked to the cameraman then back at Joey.
Hank: I don’t-
Joey simply stares a hole through Hank, telling him everything he needed to know. Hank felt his heart jump out of its chest, then left. Joey slumped deep into the chair.
On the road again...
The road at night was a quiet one. Joey found this the only time he could spend to himself, free and alone from every weight the world forced upon him. He took a deep breath as he continued his run under moonlight, feet rhythmically plodding onward tapping out a song of loneliness and desolation on the hard concrete. He had missed this. Joey was never a gym rat, by his own admittance he has wasted every physical gift given to him, but he still ran, he ran and he contemplated.
Sweat was dripping from Joey’s brow after only ten minutes; he could feel his leg muscles beginning to cramp already. The booze from the last couple of nights was getting to him but he was determined to push through it. He knew it now; there was no getting out of ONE with his belt unless he was at his maximum.
Joey wondered if he had been going about this whole thing the right way, whether he had even gone too far himself on Slam. He didn’t want to admit it in front of Hank, but he was feeling pretty much the same way. He had gone too far and he had hurt the man too much. How much can you punish and hurt a man before he is reduced to a husk? The line between a creature of unstoppable vengeance and a corpse was a fine one.
Joey needed this; he needed this more than life itself. Joey Flash was an addict; he was addicted to everything that ever grasped its poisonous fingers around his neck. Drugs, check, alcohol, check, sex, check. Wrestling? Check. Joey had re-entered a ring for the first time in years five or so weeks ago. The first hit for a long time. He expected to fly through the match with ease, no complications, but within ten seconds he tasted more pain than he had in years when he was dropped with a single punch. As he was looking up through the haze and grogginess at the lights, a shadow stood above him like a god peering down at a peon through the clouds. The grogginess turned into clarity and above him stood the man who had hurt him, dropped him and humiliated him in the middle of the ring, the place Joey thought himself as a God. The shadow became a man and Occulo looked down upon him…and he was smiling.
Joey’s psyche was shattered and his dreams of imperious reign in this domain were gone. He could have slinked off back through the crowd and faded into nothingness once more, but he stayed in the middle of the ring and he fought. For the first time in his life Joey Flash was not a coward, he fought, he fought the man who had dropped him, and he won. That was euphoria like nothing Joey had experienced for half a decade, the feeling of being close to everything that is important to you being ripped away and then clawing it back.
He nursed his wounds in the back and while the icepack was pressed on his injured head he decided then and there, this man, this…Occulo, this would be his saviour. A man who can hurt him, a man who can give him the feeling of dread that he might finally take everything of Joey’s away, it made Joey smile.
As the weeks went by Joey felt his match sharpness return, his stamina build, his strength increase and his movements quicken. He observed Occulo and knew then that this wouldn’t do. That in a straight up one on one fight this man wouldn’t be able to touch him anymore, Occulo was moving in quicksand, and Occulo was weak.
This wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. So Joey did the first thing he could think of, he went on the offensive. Slowly, Joey thought. There was no need to rush things, there was no need to go all out, he didn’t want to do anything too extreme, slowly eat away at Occulo’s thoughts, be the first thing on his mind in the morning, the last thing at night and fuck, be the demon he is running from in his dreams. All Occulo would think of is Joey Flash and his life would revolve about solely vengeance.
A desperate man is what Joey needed, not this slow one dimensional thing he saw week after week. He wanted the man who turned his lights out in his debut, then came last Slam. Joey and Occulo had their match scheduled, Occulo should be nearing his maximum, Occulo should be ready to tear him apart. Joey sat back and Joey observed, what Joey saw made him more and more angry. Every slow punch, every predictable, pitiful movement as Occulo staggered around the ring only served to make Joey more desperate himself.
He had been building this next match between them in his own head for weeks, he had moulded Occulo into a person who should by all rights willing to walk through hell itself just for a shot at punching Joey and yet here he was, losing to two people Joey could have easily handled alone. At the end of the match something just snapped in his head. He didn’t understand, he wanted to beat submission to Joey’s will into Occulo’s head. Every swing of the chair:
‘Why…are…you…so…weak?’
Then it dawned upon him, what would Joey have done in Occulo’s position over these few weeks? He would have sat and he would have waited, he wouldn’t have shown his hand, he wouldn’t have given any slight nod of emotion toward his enemy, he would make him think he was in control then when his enemy was most confident of his own strength and of his own safety…he would strike. Joey felt a chill run down his spine for the first time in Occulo’s presence. A man unconscious and bloody at his feet made him more scared and uncomfortable than if someone held a gun to his head.
Joey stared at the man in the pool of blood, his thoughts running ten to a minute slowed to a stop and it was then Joey knew, this WOULD be the man, to kill a demon you had to become a demon, and to beat Joey Flash you had to be like Joey Flash. He remembered the smile as Joey was prone on the canvas in their first meeting, he remembered the times Occulo had smiled and passively waited. Sun rise sun set, Joey see Occulo, Joey attack Occulo. The pattern was clear enough to him, it was clear enough to everyone who watched the WCF, and yet somehow Joey thought Occulo was unaware?
He had held Joey’s child, he had smiled and made friendly with his fiancée. Just…how…I’d do it. Joey, for all his control and dominance over Occulo, his assumed victory in the game they were playing when they weren’t even playing the same game and Joey had been in checkmate from the start.
So Joey did the only thing he knew would work on Occulo. The only thing that would work on him, to have something important to you get ripped away from you, for you to be fading into darkness only to be given that little glow of light that drives you, thrills you and makes you truly an addict. Joey lit the match and then extinguished it. That would deliver the message to Occulo more clearly and more thoroughly than any number of worthless attacks, mind games and verbal sparring.
Joey slowed his run to a walk and sat for a moment at the side of the road. All of this in the name of sport? Of the thrill of the hunt? Had his little plan worked? Would it have had the desired effect? He didn’t know about that. He would be disgusted with himself if Occulo backed out and gave up before the match, or refused to fight because of his injuries, he would be disgusted that his character judgement meant dick. He also knew that if on December 28th Occulo stepped through that curtain toward the ring he would be happy to be sharing the ring with this man, every blow they joust will be a melody of joy through Joey’s body. Finally someone would enter the ring with Joey as an equal.
Enough rest, back to the road. He continued running, it’s true, Joey thought, Occulo would enter the ring as his equal…but Joey held no doubt in his mind that Occulo would leave broken and defeated.
Flawed genius...
We open in Joey Flash’s locker room, Joey occupying his lone chair. He stares into the camera.
Joey: It’s here. This has been long enough in the making. Joey Flash vs Occulo, we could do this in any parking lot in the world, but we’re doing it at the biggest wrestling Pay Per View in the greatest company in the world. Lines are drawn and stakes are high, I’m ready. I’m one hundred fucking percept ready. No niggles, no injures, no aches and no pains, I am here in body and I am here in mind. This is something else. I’ve never had a feeling like it, y’know I can feel the little fluttering of butterflies in my stomach just talking about it, my palms are sweating and my hands are shaking. You have no idea how ready I am for this.
It ain’t just me, I know the fans are gonna be pretty pumped for this one, I know the boys in the back are pumped for this one, the two greatest rookies of the last month finally get each other one on one, Occulo a man wronged and tormented by the evil Joey Flash finally gets his shot at redemption and revenge. Joey Flash vs. Occulo. A wrestling purists dream, the fans often clamour for such matches, only to be rewarded by the abortions of matches we’ve been trawling away in. But this one... a match full of intrigue and of suspense, where anything could happen. A true main event, sorry Beckman, Cairo, Orbit and Fly, you’re going to have to go on after this one, it’s like seeing Metallica in 86 to be followed by One Direction. At least, that’s what it would be like if this match were to go as billed.
Unfortunately the billing for this match would be incorrect. ‘Anything’ is not going to happen, you’re not going to see the King dethroned this week, you’re going to see what you see every week, nothing new or unexpected. The simple image of Joey Flash stood; hand raised above another opponent, struggling to come to terms with what just happened, the magnitude of utter defeat.
Joey stands up and stretches
Joey: Let me lay all of my cards on the table here. Occulo isn’t the type motivated by glory or money, that ain’t what this fight is about for him. It’s the hunt, the rush. All the posturing and glitz gone, a primal battle between two athletes, testing mind and mettle, a battle to see how much punishment you can deal out and how much you can take. It’s not the money; it’s not the title at the end of the road that makes you tick. It’s that feeling you can only get in the ring, the feeling you get when you go mano a mano and stand triumphant over a vanquished foe, proving your existence and proving your power, confirming your superiority. Day after day, week after week, it’s that feeling that drives you, seeing the look in an opponent’s eyes when they realise they are in the presence of a higher being. That’s how you felt the first time you met, remember? I’ll admit it, you beat the snot out of me, and then were looking down at me like you could crush me and make me bow at your feet. A rush like nothing else in this world.
Joey stares at the camera.
Joey: For all the bravado, I am exactly the same Occulo.
It’s what pushes ME, what drives ME. I couldn’t care less for anything else, but to know that someone similar to me in instinct and in purpose is here in this company, someone who wants to do to me what I want to do to them. This is a thrill like none other, to have you bow to my skill in the ring, to know that after all your efforts and all your will as a man was for absolutely nothing in the face of greatness. This match is the sweet nectar of our sport, and I will enjoy every second of beating you senseless, every punch I land knocking that little bit of faith out of you, every move I dodge further increasing the doubt in your mind, and when I’ve broken your mind and spirit I’ll break your body, crushing your dreams like I do to everyone else. You will realise that after everything, you are no different to everyone else, compared to me you’re simply…average, and that...Occy...will hurt most of all.
You intrigue me. I can picture you now strewing in whatever little hole you reside, doing pull ups while chanting ‘Must kill Flash’, love and hate on ya knuckles. That’s good, I want you to be as ready and as prepared for this as I am, I want every sinew in your body to be aching to destroy me, every muscle fibre trained for the very purpose of tearing me limb from limb. We are separated by miles now Occulo, I can feel your confidence, but will it make a difference when we are separated by inches? When you realise that it’s not gonna go the way you thought, oh no. All the things you’ve run through in your mind, all your preparation, all your time and all your effort, when you realise it’s not going to make a difference at all.
Wanna know what this match is about? I’m quite a selfish guy, but I’m honest too. This match is not about you, this match is about me and me alone. I want to achieve perfection in that squared circle, I want to do things in there that make the fans ask ‘How?’, I want to know Occulo, I want to know what my peak is, how high my skill can really take me, how destructive, how fast and how skilled I am. I get this, I get I haven’t shown anything more than ‘Bland new talent who beats a couple of bums’, you’re probably feeling the same about yourself.
Now lemme ask you something. Why do you think I’ve not set the world alight here? Why have I not grabbed the place by the balls and by my actions alone demanded respect and a good standing? Is it because my skills have diminished; am I just not as good as I think I am? Maybe I’m just deluded. No, that can’t be it. Is it because I have lost my fire for the business? Hmmm, I don’t think so. I want to beat the piss out of you as much now as I would have wanted to years ago. Any ideas yet? No? Okay okay you’re struggling here Occy, i’ll help you out a bit
Flash sits down on his lonely chair.
Imagine if you will, Michelangelo. After years of art, of brilliance of the sublime, day after day you see the genius in the work he does, the canvas, the sculpture. If one day you were to just...
Joey makes a motion with his hand.
...take it all away. No more colours, no more canvas. All the ideas, all the art, the genius... but with no way to manifest them, the colours begin to fade and all the ideas and brilliance is lost to memory. With all this Michelangelo loses everything that makes him what he is, his soul as an artist isn’t gone, just the tools. Without those...he’s just another man.
You are a smart guy; you can see where I am going with this. Why would a talent such as me not be glowing white hot here? Where’s my canvas, where are my colours? How can you expect genius to manifest and flourish if it is being given no time, air, space to bloom? You think that the shit I’ve faced is a fuckin’ catalyst; chefs, drugged up undead and whatever the fuck Ultimate Destroyer is. Would it even be a catalyst for you? Come on. You want to force me to fight and make me really show you what I can do? You really wanna push this? Okay Occy.
I’ll even tell you what you need to do, I’m kind like that. You see the type of wrestler I really am? Punch me so hard it shatters my nose, knee me in the gut so hard it makes me want to puke from the breathlessness and the pain. Make me feel like I might...actually...lose. If you can do any of those things Occy. Then the fans are in for something special. Oh yeah. Though…not in the way you think, you’re not going to get that Kodak moment in front the world at ONE. They ain’t gonna see no great match, this ain’t gonna be a war. You fire the opening shot effectively enough, you show me that you can do enough to really hurt me and threaten me and we’ll be seeing a real massacre in the ring.
Your blood, your pain, and your admission that you weren’t good enough, down on your knees at my feet when I rip your very wrestling desire from you, when I see in your eyes that you are beaten, and even someone with the pride of you admits it. They are gonna be my colours.
And the canvas of the ring...well, uhhh, that’ll be uhm, the canvas.
Joey mutters to himself for a moment.
Joey: That was supposed to be fuckin epic.
He looks at the camera man.
Joey: Can we edit?
Cameraman: Live.
Joey: Uhhh, okay.
Joey pauses to collect himself quickly. He approaches the camera.
Joey: Look into my eyes Occulo, do you see failure? Do you see lack of hunger? Do you see a man who has lost the will to fight? Do you see failure? When you stare into my eyes and see nothing but serenity that I possess of skill beyond that you can even comprehend. Then we’ll see if your confidence wavers. It’s not me you should be worried about Occy; you need to take a good long look at yourself.
Then after the match, do just that, take a long look into your own eyes and then tell me, do you see the same things when you look at yourself in the mirror? A shadow, a fade, a mediocrity? Knowing in your heart that you made the wrong move by waking the dragon. Knowing that after all this, you are the failure.
As it stands now, I am the one going into the match with clarity; you are being clouded by your foolish ideas and assumptions about me. I certainly wouldn’t want you to be wavering now, would I Occy? After all you are the one who is pushing this, just don’t be surprised when you actually get what you want and it turns out to be much, much worse than you expected. If you open this Pandora’s Box Occy...I guarantee you won’t like what you find.
Tonight we dine in...
Joey was allowing himself a night before ONE to relax, he needed it. He had been grinding his fingers to the bone in training, he felt his muscles were tiring and the chance overtraining was very possible, so for tonight, Joey would let his hair down. He had booked a table for himself and Alessandra at ‘The Cipriani’, a high end Italian place, naturally. Though clothes he decided to go with were, for the venue, pretty stupid. Tracksuit bottoms and a plain black T-Shirt. He smiled as he left the bathroom and walked into his bedroom. Plopped himself onto his bed and put on his worn down white sneakers, before picking up his phone.
Joey: Hi, is this is Joey Flash; I booked for 9, that still on the up and up? Okay, thanks.
He grabbed his wallet from his bedside table, a couple of hundreds and some rubbers, that was him set night. He walked out of his house and decided to take a bus, preferring public transport. He got off two stops away and decided to jog the rest of the way, after five minutes he made it. Wiping the sweat from his brow he approached the door to the restaurant, he had found it probably the best place to come recently. He held the door open for a young couple before entering The Cipriani himself.
Entering, he found the hustle and bustle of the early night refreshing as he talked to the man at the door.
Joey: Table for two, upstairs. Flash.
Man: It certainly is sir, not for the likes of you.
Joey: Huh?
Man: Do you mind, I would like you to leave.
Joey: I’d like a table for two, I got a reservation…
The man looks at him cock-eyed
Joey: Joey Flash, check your list before you go harassing customers, I would suggest.
The man coughs and checks the list.
Man: I…
Suddenly, the man is clipped round the head by a large man with a moustache.
Large man: What the hell are you doing, see him to his table AT ONCE.
Man: Uhh…
Large man: I am so sorry Joseph; please accept our house champagne, complimentary of course.
Joey: One bottle of champagne isn’t going to do it. I have been insulted here tonight.
The large man backs off in fear.
Large man: How many? Two, three?
Joey starts laughing
Joey: Just kiddin’, I’ll take that free bottle though man. You need to give your doorman a bit more training though.
Large man (forced laughter): Haha, well said. Have a pleasant meal.
Joey is led upstairs by the doorman and shown to his table, the best in the house.
Man: Forgive…
Joey: Leave.
The man quickly hurries out of Joey’s sight and back downstairs as Joey looks around the room, many people staring at him either for the ruckus or his clothes. He gives a wave and reclines back on his chair, looking at his watch. She would be here soon.
Flash heard some talking from the stairs, and heard people walking up. He leant back on his chair to get a better view, she was here, beautiful. Alessandra Allegri approached, smiling with a blush as Joey pulled her in for a hot kiss. After a few seconds he released her and kissed her again on her forehead before hopping round to her side of the table and pulling the chair out for her to sit down.
Alessandra: If I’d known where we were going I’d have dressed up.
She laughed, mocking Joey.
Alessandra: You’re ready for this aren’t you?
Joey: Absofuckinlutely. I mean check it.
He flexed his biceps, oddly impressive peaks for the lithe little Italian.
Alessandra: I meant for the food.
Joey: Oh, yeah.
Alessandra: Joey…I’m worried.
Joey: Huh? Why?
Alessandra: I don’t like who you are when you’re wrestling.
Joey: Not this shit again, listen, it’s just business. It’s not like I’m running about shooting people.
Joey didn’t seem to notice the tension in his fiancée’s body at that, or if he did, didn’t care.
Joey: And hey, he’d do the same to me.
Alessandra: Would he?
Joey: Fuckin right he would, he wants to kill me Al, and you need to understand a person like that they have a certain mind set. He’s just like…he’s just like me.
A pause before Alessandra speaks.
Alessandra: Are you sure?
Joey: What?
Alessandra: Are you sure that’s the truth of things? That Occulo is like you? I’m not seeing it, I’m not seeing it at all.
Joey: Hang on a fuckin minute-
Alessandra: What I’m seeing is a calm person who had no qualms with you be hounded, assaulted and made to feel scared and hurt every time he goes to work.
Joey looked shocked.
Alessandra: What I’m seeing is the systematic attempt to destroy a man’s livelihood for little reason whatsoever, I’m looking at you in your cheap shoes flexing your biceps and being so out of touch with the truth it’s staggering. Is this what you’re using for justification Joseph? Because from where I’m sitting this is as clean cut as I can give it to you. Stop it. This is not you, it never has been.
Joey stared at the table. She didn’t know, she didn’t care, she had no idea what type of person Occulo was, she had no idea about what kind of person HE was. She saw the happy smiley lovely man who plays fort and make believe with their kid, the one that takes her to restaurants and tries to make her smile and laugh. She didn’t see the killer or the broken man he truly was.
Joey: I’m going to the bathroom.
Alessandra watched as he got up and left for the bathroom. She smiled. She had only told him what she thought, though she was rarely wrong in matters like this. She could have sugar coated it, but felt this would work better. This was doing him the world of good, if it meant some poor sap had to be hurt, rendered brain dead or even killed she didn’t care. She had her Joseph back. His childlike enthusiasm and happiness about something has made him happier than she had seen him in years. All he spent his time talking about is ‘Wrestling’ and ‘Occulo’, rather than wallowing at the bottom of a bottle talking about ‘Facchetti’ and ‘The children’. She had done what she had to in order to make herself and the ones she loved safe, and would continue to do it as long as she lived. So if what Joey was doing with this Occulo chap did the same for him, go for it.
Joey sat on the toilet, she really didn’t know him. He felt a rage building up inside and let a single punch land against the cubicle door. With a few simple words, his fiancee had destroyed him, if that’s truly what you think my dear, if you really think that’s the type of person I am, a bitter, twisted cunt of a man…then so fucking be it.
The Monster inside of me has grown so big...
We open back once more in Joey Flashes locker room, now with an added table to its wonderful variety now consisting of a single chair and a single chair. We see Joey sat in almost total darkness, a hood covering most of his face, the camera approaches and Joey lowers his hood and pulls his chair toward the table, he pulls out his WCF Television title, takes his wallet and fidgets round to find a picture, and a $50 note laying them on the table as well. He stares into the camera for a moment.
Joey: You’re a pathetic man Occulo, I’m so glad. The pain in your eyes when I’m around is such a sight to behold, the slight wavering in your voice as you speak is a cacophony of beauty, all the words you say now are the types of things a therapist would tell a damaged patient to help them get over great tragedy. Those words I’ve heard countless times, even through your hardened exterior I can taste the fear. You fear what you don’t understand, you don’t understand me and at the end of the day I don’t think I understand you either, nor do I fucking care. You are a gnat to me, and I will vanquish you underfoot if I decide.
You see, throughout all of this, all the hurt and pain I delivered to that poor man, not once has he raised a hand in anger against me, not once has he come after me. If you hit a snarling dog enough times, it learns not to snarl any more and becomes a lovely little mutt. It doesn’t love you, it doesn’t follow you around, if you were drowning in a river it wouldn’t jump after you, but still, it obeys. He isn’t stupid. He never intended to be booked in this match, probably pleaded against it, but he’s been on too much of a roll, he’s fought just too well to avoid being in this match up. When he is in the ring with me once more all the memories will come back, pain don’t leave ya that easily, his legs will shake and his psyche will crumble. Occulo was a lovely, intelligent man with a big future in the business and I could have grown to like, but now he is a weak, pitiful creature with no future and no prospects. My little mongrel will roll over, whine and beg once again, I’ll just smile and tell that cunt to shut up.
‘Roll over and die like a good boy.’
His lips will quiver, tears will fall, and he will do what I say. They always do.
You know what, it’s been churning through your mind for a month or two, and still you’re asking for a ‘why?’ Why did I do it, and through your mind you probably have it twisted any several ways, maybe I took care of you so you didn’t come back to haunt and fight me later, maybe I did it because I dislike you cos of something you did or said, wanna know the truth?
I don’t dislike you; I don’t see you as a threat. I merely did it on a whim.
Joey leans forward in the chair.
Joey: Bad things happen to good people Occulo. I held your life in my hands, how does that feel? To feel so pathetic and helpless at the total control of another person. From what it seems to me though, it seems to have been a very therapeutic experience for you.
Joey removes a match from his pocket and lights it.
Joey: This is your innocence.
The match begins to slowly burn.
Joey: Life itself takes it away naturally through trial and loss, just like this match. But sometimes, something just comes along and...
Joey blows the match out.
Joey: Strips you of it forever. That’s what I did Occulo, that’s why you are so hurt and so scared inside. Not because of the physical pain, but because you know I’ve taken from you something you’re never going to be able to get back. Money can’t buy it back; beating me can’t get it back. I have taken it from you, and it is permanent. How sickening must that be Occy? To have the person who did that to you so close but for all your will, you can do absolutely nothing to get it back.
There’s going to be a line of blood drawn on the canvas when we meet at ONE, I shall lay it down and then we shall see what becomes of it. Will you do what you say, step forward fearless and full of fury? Or will you cower and hide?
Joey stands up and stares at the items he put down on the table earlier.
Joey: What are you going to take from me Occulo? What is most important to me?
The fifty dollar note.
“Money?”
The belt.
“Sanctuary?”
The picture, zoomed in we see Alessandra Allegri and little Christian.
“Love?”
The camera pans onto the face of Joey once more, eyes staring straight through the camera.
Joey: These are ties that bind me to this life. See, anything you can take from me Occulo has already been a long time gone. My innocence was gone five years ago, I’ve seen suffering and I’ve lived it. I know the pain burning inside you so well it almost hurts. I know how badly you want to tear my head off and bathe in my blood, you’ve thought of nothing but. This is not about excitement for me, it isn’t about fighting tough or fighting hard. What is going to happen to us inside that cage is a boy, no... a man fighting for his life. I’m going to tell you something Occulo. When my soul was ripped out of me and the man was stood above me with the ‘match’, he smiled, laughed and blew it out. In my mind I was begging for him to just drop it, just drop it, end it here, please...
So if you want it that badly, you’re going to come at me looking to maim me, kill me. I won’t laugh in your face Occulo, I won’t smile. You come at me with that intent, passion and desire, I’ll be moved to such a point you don’t understand, come at me like that and believe me, this time I will finish the job. For both our sakes.
The camera feed cuts.
Joey sighs and leans over the table, a single tear drops onto the wood, and we see two small streams down his face. He picks the belt off the table.
Joey: Sanctuary.
END.
The Night of Slam...
Hank Brown was stood almost like a statue staring at the door of Joey Flash’s locker room, ‘Pound for Pound #1’ written on a large piece of paper on the door in front of him. He reached out and ripped the paper off before tearing it to shreds.
Hank: Piece of shit.
Hank opened the door without knocking to find the lone figure of the WCF Television champion sat once more on his single chair in the room, towel covering his head.
Hank: What the fuck was that? You went overboard.
No response from Joey, the flick of a match lighting under the towel, Joey extends his hand out and we see it is still covered in blood from Slam. He moves the match underneath his right hand, toward his index finger and holds it there for a few seconds until a drop of blood falls onto it and snuffs the flame out. Joey drops the match to the floor, to join about fifteen burnt out matches that are at his feet. Joey finally looks up from under the towel toward Hank and the camera crew.
Joey: You didn’t have to watch.
Hank: Bullshit, what the hell did that prove?
Joey slowly stands up, and the towel drops from his head to the floor, Joey is staring a hole through Brown.
Joey: Watch your tone.
Hank: You mother-
Joey: You don’t want to finish that sentence.
Hank quickly cuts himself off and breaks his gaze from Joey.
Joey: If you come in here with a swollen ego like this again, I will end you, do you understand?
Hank stays silent.
Joey: Say you understand Hank.
Hank: I-I understand.
Joey: Good.
He slides back down to his chair and looks up at the ceiling.
Hank: But Occulo-
Joey: I don’t think you’re confused Hank, I reckon you didn’t think that lil Joey had it in him. See, that’s the problem here isn’t it. This is real life, not a fantasy tale, ain’t no white knights, ain’t no evil monsters.
You’re angry; you’re scared because I’m not a monster. I’m a man you’ve talked to, and you got comfortable with and shared a laugh with, fuck you’re even on my Christmas card list. But you’re sweating now, and you’re on edge. When things get real, you can’t deal with it. I could as easily shake your hand and call you friend as put a bullet in your head, and that’s a scary thought isn’t it?
Joey picks the towel up and covers his head once more.
Joey: You might think that it’s one way, but trust me. It’s almost always the other way. Get out.
Hank looked to the cameraman then back at Joey.
Hank: I don’t-
Joey simply stares a hole through Hank, telling him everything he needed to know. Hank felt his heart jump out of its chest, then left. Joey slumped deep into the chair.
On the road again...
The road at night was a quiet one. Joey found this the only time he could spend to himself, free and alone from every weight the world forced upon him. He took a deep breath as he continued his run under moonlight, feet rhythmically plodding onward tapping out a song of loneliness and desolation on the hard concrete. He had missed this. Joey was never a gym rat, by his own admittance he has wasted every physical gift given to him, but he still ran, he ran and he contemplated.
Sweat was dripping from Joey’s brow after only ten minutes; he could feel his leg muscles beginning to cramp already. The booze from the last couple of nights was getting to him but he was determined to push through it. He knew it now; there was no getting out of ONE with his belt unless he was at his maximum.
Joey wondered if he had been going about this whole thing the right way, whether he had even gone too far himself on Slam. He didn’t want to admit it in front of Hank, but he was feeling pretty much the same way. He had gone too far and he had hurt the man too much. How much can you punish and hurt a man before he is reduced to a husk? The line between a creature of unstoppable vengeance and a corpse was a fine one.
Joey needed this; he needed this more than life itself. Joey Flash was an addict; he was addicted to everything that ever grasped its poisonous fingers around his neck. Drugs, check, alcohol, check, sex, check. Wrestling? Check. Joey had re-entered a ring for the first time in years five or so weeks ago. The first hit for a long time. He expected to fly through the match with ease, no complications, but within ten seconds he tasted more pain than he had in years when he was dropped with a single punch. As he was looking up through the haze and grogginess at the lights, a shadow stood above him like a god peering down at a peon through the clouds. The grogginess turned into clarity and above him stood the man who had hurt him, dropped him and humiliated him in the middle of the ring, the place Joey thought himself as a God. The shadow became a man and Occulo looked down upon him…and he was smiling.
Joey’s psyche was shattered and his dreams of imperious reign in this domain were gone. He could have slinked off back through the crowd and faded into nothingness once more, but he stayed in the middle of the ring and he fought. For the first time in his life Joey Flash was not a coward, he fought, he fought the man who had dropped him, and he won. That was euphoria like nothing Joey had experienced for half a decade, the feeling of being close to everything that is important to you being ripped away and then clawing it back.
He nursed his wounds in the back and while the icepack was pressed on his injured head he decided then and there, this man, this…Occulo, this would be his saviour. A man who can hurt him, a man who can give him the feeling of dread that he might finally take everything of Joey’s away, it made Joey smile.
As the weeks went by Joey felt his match sharpness return, his stamina build, his strength increase and his movements quicken. He observed Occulo and knew then that this wouldn’t do. That in a straight up one on one fight this man wouldn’t be able to touch him anymore, Occulo was moving in quicksand, and Occulo was weak.
This wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. So Joey did the first thing he could think of, he went on the offensive. Slowly, Joey thought. There was no need to rush things, there was no need to go all out, he didn’t want to do anything too extreme, slowly eat away at Occulo’s thoughts, be the first thing on his mind in the morning, the last thing at night and fuck, be the demon he is running from in his dreams. All Occulo would think of is Joey Flash and his life would revolve about solely vengeance.
A desperate man is what Joey needed, not this slow one dimensional thing he saw week after week. He wanted the man who turned his lights out in his debut, then came last Slam. Joey and Occulo had their match scheduled, Occulo should be nearing his maximum, Occulo should be ready to tear him apart. Joey sat back and Joey observed, what Joey saw made him more and more angry. Every slow punch, every predictable, pitiful movement as Occulo staggered around the ring only served to make Joey more desperate himself.
He had been building this next match between them in his own head for weeks, he had moulded Occulo into a person who should by all rights willing to walk through hell itself just for a shot at punching Joey and yet here he was, losing to two people Joey could have easily handled alone. At the end of the match something just snapped in his head. He didn’t understand, he wanted to beat submission to Joey’s will into Occulo’s head. Every swing of the chair:
‘Why…are…you…so…weak?’
Then it dawned upon him, what would Joey have done in Occulo’s position over these few weeks? He would have sat and he would have waited, he wouldn’t have shown his hand, he wouldn’t have given any slight nod of emotion toward his enemy, he would make him think he was in control then when his enemy was most confident of his own strength and of his own safety…he would strike. Joey felt a chill run down his spine for the first time in Occulo’s presence. A man unconscious and bloody at his feet made him more scared and uncomfortable than if someone held a gun to his head.
Joey stared at the man in the pool of blood, his thoughts running ten to a minute slowed to a stop and it was then Joey knew, this WOULD be the man, to kill a demon you had to become a demon, and to beat Joey Flash you had to be like Joey Flash. He remembered the smile as Joey was prone on the canvas in their first meeting, he remembered the times Occulo had smiled and passively waited. Sun rise sun set, Joey see Occulo, Joey attack Occulo. The pattern was clear enough to him, it was clear enough to everyone who watched the WCF, and yet somehow Joey thought Occulo was unaware?
He had held Joey’s child, he had smiled and made friendly with his fiancée. Just…how…I’d do it. Joey, for all his control and dominance over Occulo, his assumed victory in the game they were playing when they weren’t even playing the same game and Joey had been in checkmate from the start.
So Joey did the only thing he knew would work on Occulo. The only thing that would work on him, to have something important to you get ripped away from you, for you to be fading into darkness only to be given that little glow of light that drives you, thrills you and makes you truly an addict. Joey lit the match and then extinguished it. That would deliver the message to Occulo more clearly and more thoroughly than any number of worthless attacks, mind games and verbal sparring.
Joey slowed his run to a walk and sat for a moment at the side of the road. All of this in the name of sport? Of the thrill of the hunt? Had his little plan worked? Would it have had the desired effect? He didn’t know about that. He would be disgusted with himself if Occulo backed out and gave up before the match, or refused to fight because of his injuries, he would be disgusted that his character judgement meant dick. He also knew that if on December 28th Occulo stepped through that curtain toward the ring he would be happy to be sharing the ring with this man, every blow they joust will be a melody of joy through Joey’s body. Finally someone would enter the ring with Joey as an equal.
Enough rest, back to the road. He continued running, it’s true, Joey thought, Occulo would enter the ring as his equal…but Joey held no doubt in his mind that Occulo would leave broken and defeated.
Flawed genius...
We open in Joey Flash’s locker room, Joey occupying his lone chair. He stares into the camera.
Joey: It’s here. This has been long enough in the making. Joey Flash vs Occulo, we could do this in any parking lot in the world, but we’re doing it at the biggest wrestling Pay Per View in the greatest company in the world. Lines are drawn and stakes are high, I’m ready. I’m one hundred fucking percept ready. No niggles, no injures, no aches and no pains, I am here in body and I am here in mind. This is something else. I’ve never had a feeling like it, y’know I can feel the little fluttering of butterflies in my stomach just talking about it, my palms are sweating and my hands are shaking. You have no idea how ready I am for this.
It ain’t just me, I know the fans are gonna be pretty pumped for this one, I know the boys in the back are pumped for this one, the two greatest rookies of the last month finally get each other one on one, Occulo a man wronged and tormented by the evil Joey Flash finally gets his shot at redemption and revenge. Joey Flash vs. Occulo. A wrestling purists dream, the fans often clamour for such matches, only to be rewarded by the abortions of matches we’ve been trawling away in. But this one... a match full of intrigue and of suspense, where anything could happen. A true main event, sorry Beckman, Cairo, Orbit and Fly, you’re going to have to go on after this one, it’s like seeing Metallica in 86 to be followed by One Direction. At least, that’s what it would be like if this match were to go as billed.
Unfortunately the billing for this match would be incorrect. ‘Anything’ is not going to happen, you’re not going to see the King dethroned this week, you’re going to see what you see every week, nothing new or unexpected. The simple image of Joey Flash stood; hand raised above another opponent, struggling to come to terms with what just happened, the magnitude of utter defeat.
Joey stands up and stretches
Joey: Let me lay all of my cards on the table here. Occulo isn’t the type motivated by glory or money, that ain’t what this fight is about for him. It’s the hunt, the rush. All the posturing and glitz gone, a primal battle between two athletes, testing mind and mettle, a battle to see how much punishment you can deal out and how much you can take. It’s not the money; it’s not the title at the end of the road that makes you tick. It’s that feeling you can only get in the ring, the feeling you get when you go mano a mano and stand triumphant over a vanquished foe, proving your existence and proving your power, confirming your superiority. Day after day, week after week, it’s that feeling that drives you, seeing the look in an opponent’s eyes when they realise they are in the presence of a higher being. That’s how you felt the first time you met, remember? I’ll admit it, you beat the snot out of me, and then were looking down at me like you could crush me and make me bow at your feet. A rush like nothing else in this world.
Joey stares at the camera.
Joey: For all the bravado, I am exactly the same Occulo.
It’s what pushes ME, what drives ME. I couldn’t care less for anything else, but to know that someone similar to me in instinct and in purpose is here in this company, someone who wants to do to me what I want to do to them. This is a thrill like none other, to have you bow to my skill in the ring, to know that after all your efforts and all your will as a man was for absolutely nothing in the face of greatness. This match is the sweet nectar of our sport, and I will enjoy every second of beating you senseless, every punch I land knocking that little bit of faith out of you, every move I dodge further increasing the doubt in your mind, and when I’ve broken your mind and spirit I’ll break your body, crushing your dreams like I do to everyone else. You will realise that after everything, you are no different to everyone else, compared to me you’re simply…average, and that...Occy...will hurt most of all.
You intrigue me. I can picture you now strewing in whatever little hole you reside, doing pull ups while chanting ‘Must kill Flash’, love and hate on ya knuckles. That’s good, I want you to be as ready and as prepared for this as I am, I want every sinew in your body to be aching to destroy me, every muscle fibre trained for the very purpose of tearing me limb from limb. We are separated by miles now Occulo, I can feel your confidence, but will it make a difference when we are separated by inches? When you realise that it’s not gonna go the way you thought, oh no. All the things you’ve run through in your mind, all your preparation, all your time and all your effort, when you realise it’s not going to make a difference at all.
Wanna know what this match is about? I’m quite a selfish guy, but I’m honest too. This match is not about you, this match is about me and me alone. I want to achieve perfection in that squared circle, I want to do things in there that make the fans ask ‘How?’, I want to know Occulo, I want to know what my peak is, how high my skill can really take me, how destructive, how fast and how skilled I am. I get this, I get I haven’t shown anything more than ‘Bland new talent who beats a couple of bums’, you’re probably feeling the same about yourself.
Now lemme ask you something. Why do you think I’ve not set the world alight here? Why have I not grabbed the place by the balls and by my actions alone demanded respect and a good standing? Is it because my skills have diminished; am I just not as good as I think I am? Maybe I’m just deluded. No, that can’t be it. Is it because I have lost my fire for the business? Hmmm, I don’t think so. I want to beat the piss out of you as much now as I would have wanted to years ago. Any ideas yet? No? Okay okay you’re struggling here Occy, i’ll help you out a bit
Flash sits down on his lonely chair.
Imagine if you will, Michelangelo. After years of art, of brilliance of the sublime, day after day you see the genius in the work he does, the canvas, the sculpture. If one day you were to just...
Joey makes a motion with his hand.
...take it all away. No more colours, no more canvas. All the ideas, all the art, the genius... but with no way to manifest them, the colours begin to fade and all the ideas and brilliance is lost to memory. With all this Michelangelo loses everything that makes him what he is, his soul as an artist isn’t gone, just the tools. Without those...he’s just another man.
You are a smart guy; you can see where I am going with this. Why would a talent such as me not be glowing white hot here? Where’s my canvas, where are my colours? How can you expect genius to manifest and flourish if it is being given no time, air, space to bloom? You think that the shit I’ve faced is a fuckin’ catalyst; chefs, drugged up undead and whatever the fuck Ultimate Destroyer is. Would it even be a catalyst for you? Come on. You want to force me to fight and make me really show you what I can do? You really wanna push this? Okay Occy.
I’ll even tell you what you need to do, I’m kind like that. You see the type of wrestler I really am? Punch me so hard it shatters my nose, knee me in the gut so hard it makes me want to puke from the breathlessness and the pain. Make me feel like I might...actually...lose. If you can do any of those things Occy. Then the fans are in for something special. Oh yeah. Though…not in the way you think, you’re not going to get that Kodak moment in front the world at ONE. They ain’t gonna see no great match, this ain’t gonna be a war. You fire the opening shot effectively enough, you show me that you can do enough to really hurt me and threaten me and we’ll be seeing a real massacre in the ring.
Your blood, your pain, and your admission that you weren’t good enough, down on your knees at my feet when I rip your very wrestling desire from you, when I see in your eyes that you are beaten, and even someone with the pride of you admits it. They are gonna be my colours.
And the canvas of the ring...well, uhhh, that’ll be uhm, the canvas.
Joey mutters to himself for a moment.
Joey: That was supposed to be fuckin epic.
He looks at the camera man.
Joey: Can we edit?
Cameraman: Live.
Joey: Uhhh, okay.
Joey pauses to collect himself quickly. He approaches the camera.
Joey: Look into my eyes Occulo, do you see failure? Do you see lack of hunger? Do you see a man who has lost the will to fight? Do you see failure? When you stare into my eyes and see nothing but serenity that I possess of skill beyond that you can even comprehend. Then we’ll see if your confidence wavers. It’s not me you should be worried about Occy; you need to take a good long look at yourself.
Then after the match, do just that, take a long look into your own eyes and then tell me, do you see the same things when you look at yourself in the mirror? A shadow, a fade, a mediocrity? Knowing in your heart that you made the wrong move by waking the dragon. Knowing that after all this, you are the failure.
As it stands now, I am the one going into the match with clarity; you are being clouded by your foolish ideas and assumptions about me. I certainly wouldn’t want you to be wavering now, would I Occy? After all you are the one who is pushing this, just don’t be surprised when you actually get what you want and it turns out to be much, much worse than you expected. If you open this Pandora’s Box Occy...I guarantee you won’t like what you find.
Tonight we dine in...
Joey was allowing himself a night before ONE to relax, he needed it. He had been grinding his fingers to the bone in training, he felt his muscles were tiring and the chance overtraining was very possible, so for tonight, Joey would let his hair down. He had booked a table for himself and Alessandra at ‘The Cipriani’, a high end Italian place, naturally. Though clothes he decided to go with were, for the venue, pretty stupid. Tracksuit bottoms and a plain black T-Shirt. He smiled as he left the bathroom and walked into his bedroom. Plopped himself onto his bed and put on his worn down white sneakers, before picking up his phone.
Joey: Hi, is this is Joey Flash; I booked for 9, that still on the up and up? Okay, thanks.
He grabbed his wallet from his bedside table, a couple of hundreds and some rubbers, that was him set night. He walked out of his house and decided to take a bus, preferring public transport. He got off two stops away and decided to jog the rest of the way, after five minutes he made it. Wiping the sweat from his brow he approached the door to the restaurant, he had found it probably the best place to come recently. He held the door open for a young couple before entering The Cipriani himself.
Entering, he found the hustle and bustle of the early night refreshing as he talked to the man at the door.
Joey: Table for two, upstairs. Flash.
Man: It certainly is sir, not for the likes of you.
Joey: Huh?
Man: Do you mind, I would like you to leave.
Joey: I’d like a table for two, I got a reservation…
The man looks at him cock-eyed
Joey: Joey Flash, check your list before you go harassing customers, I would suggest.
The man coughs and checks the list.
Man: I…
Suddenly, the man is clipped round the head by a large man with a moustache.
Large man: What the hell are you doing, see him to his table AT ONCE.
Man: Uhh…
Large man: I am so sorry Joseph; please accept our house champagne, complimentary of course.
Joey: One bottle of champagne isn’t going to do it. I have been insulted here tonight.
The large man backs off in fear.
Large man: How many? Two, three?
Joey starts laughing
Joey: Just kiddin’, I’ll take that free bottle though man. You need to give your doorman a bit more training though.
Large man (forced laughter): Haha, well said. Have a pleasant meal.
Joey is led upstairs by the doorman and shown to his table, the best in the house.
Man: Forgive…
Joey: Leave.
The man quickly hurries out of Joey’s sight and back downstairs as Joey looks around the room, many people staring at him either for the ruckus or his clothes. He gives a wave and reclines back on his chair, looking at his watch. She would be here soon.
Flash heard some talking from the stairs, and heard people walking up. He leant back on his chair to get a better view, she was here, beautiful. Alessandra Allegri approached, smiling with a blush as Joey pulled her in for a hot kiss. After a few seconds he released her and kissed her again on her forehead before hopping round to her side of the table and pulling the chair out for her to sit down.
Alessandra: If I’d known where we were going I’d have dressed up.
She laughed, mocking Joey.
Alessandra: You’re ready for this aren’t you?
Joey: Absofuckinlutely. I mean check it.
He flexed his biceps, oddly impressive peaks for the lithe little Italian.
Alessandra: I meant for the food.
Joey: Oh, yeah.
Alessandra: Joey…I’m worried.
Joey: Huh? Why?
Alessandra: I don’t like who you are when you’re wrestling.
Joey: Not this shit again, listen, it’s just business. It’s not like I’m running about shooting people.
Joey didn’t seem to notice the tension in his fiancée’s body at that, or if he did, didn’t care.
Joey: And hey, he’d do the same to me.
Alessandra: Would he?
Joey: Fuckin right he would, he wants to kill me Al, and you need to understand a person like that they have a certain mind set. He’s just like…he’s just like me.
A pause before Alessandra speaks.
Alessandra: Are you sure?
Joey: What?
Alessandra: Are you sure that’s the truth of things? That Occulo is like you? I’m not seeing it, I’m not seeing it at all.
Joey: Hang on a fuckin minute-
Alessandra: What I’m seeing is a calm person who had no qualms with you be hounded, assaulted and made to feel scared and hurt every time he goes to work.
Joey looked shocked.
Alessandra: What I’m seeing is the systematic attempt to destroy a man’s livelihood for little reason whatsoever, I’m looking at you in your cheap shoes flexing your biceps and being so out of touch with the truth it’s staggering. Is this what you’re using for justification Joseph? Because from where I’m sitting this is as clean cut as I can give it to you. Stop it. This is not you, it never has been.
Joey stared at the table. She didn’t know, she didn’t care, she had no idea what type of person Occulo was, she had no idea about what kind of person HE was. She saw the happy smiley lovely man who plays fort and make believe with their kid, the one that takes her to restaurants and tries to make her smile and laugh. She didn’t see the killer or the broken man he truly was.
Joey: I’m going to the bathroom.
Alessandra watched as he got up and left for the bathroom. She smiled. She had only told him what she thought, though she was rarely wrong in matters like this. She could have sugar coated it, but felt this would work better. This was doing him the world of good, if it meant some poor sap had to be hurt, rendered brain dead or even killed she didn’t care. She had her Joseph back. His childlike enthusiasm and happiness about something has made him happier than she had seen him in years. All he spent his time talking about is ‘Wrestling’ and ‘Occulo’, rather than wallowing at the bottom of a bottle talking about ‘Facchetti’ and ‘The children’. She had done what she had to in order to make herself and the ones she loved safe, and would continue to do it as long as she lived. So if what Joey was doing with this Occulo chap did the same for him, go for it.
Joey sat on the toilet, she really didn’t know him. He felt a rage building up inside and let a single punch land against the cubicle door. With a few simple words, his fiancee had destroyed him, if that’s truly what you think my dear, if you really think that’s the type of person I am, a bitter, twisted cunt of a man…then so fucking be it.
The Monster inside of me has grown so big...
We open back once more in Joey Flashes locker room, now with an added table to its wonderful variety now consisting of a single chair and a single chair. We see Joey sat in almost total darkness, a hood covering most of his face, the camera approaches and Joey lowers his hood and pulls his chair toward the table, he pulls out his WCF Television title, takes his wallet and fidgets round to find a picture, and a $50 note laying them on the table as well. He stares into the camera for a moment.
Joey: You’re a pathetic man Occulo, I’m so glad. The pain in your eyes when I’m around is such a sight to behold, the slight wavering in your voice as you speak is a cacophony of beauty, all the words you say now are the types of things a therapist would tell a damaged patient to help them get over great tragedy. Those words I’ve heard countless times, even through your hardened exterior I can taste the fear. You fear what you don’t understand, you don’t understand me and at the end of the day I don’t think I understand you either, nor do I fucking care. You are a gnat to me, and I will vanquish you underfoot if I decide.
You see, throughout all of this, all the hurt and pain I delivered to that poor man, not once has he raised a hand in anger against me, not once has he come after me. If you hit a snarling dog enough times, it learns not to snarl any more and becomes a lovely little mutt. It doesn’t love you, it doesn’t follow you around, if you were drowning in a river it wouldn’t jump after you, but still, it obeys. He isn’t stupid. He never intended to be booked in this match, probably pleaded against it, but he’s been on too much of a roll, he’s fought just too well to avoid being in this match up. When he is in the ring with me once more all the memories will come back, pain don’t leave ya that easily, his legs will shake and his psyche will crumble. Occulo was a lovely, intelligent man with a big future in the business and I could have grown to like, but now he is a weak, pitiful creature with no future and no prospects. My little mongrel will roll over, whine and beg once again, I’ll just smile and tell that cunt to shut up.
‘Roll over and die like a good boy.’
His lips will quiver, tears will fall, and he will do what I say. They always do.
You know what, it’s been churning through your mind for a month or two, and still you’re asking for a ‘why?’ Why did I do it, and through your mind you probably have it twisted any several ways, maybe I took care of you so you didn’t come back to haunt and fight me later, maybe I did it because I dislike you cos of something you did or said, wanna know the truth?
I don’t dislike you; I don’t see you as a threat. I merely did it on a whim.
Joey leans forward in the chair.
Joey: Bad things happen to good people Occulo. I held your life in my hands, how does that feel? To feel so pathetic and helpless at the total control of another person. From what it seems to me though, it seems to have been a very therapeutic experience for you.
Joey removes a match from his pocket and lights it.
Joey: This is your innocence.
The match begins to slowly burn.
Joey: Life itself takes it away naturally through trial and loss, just like this match. But sometimes, something just comes along and...
Joey blows the match out.
Joey: Strips you of it forever. That’s what I did Occulo, that’s why you are so hurt and so scared inside. Not because of the physical pain, but because you know I’ve taken from you something you’re never going to be able to get back. Money can’t buy it back; beating me can’t get it back. I have taken it from you, and it is permanent. How sickening must that be Occy? To have the person who did that to you so close but for all your will, you can do absolutely nothing to get it back.
There’s going to be a line of blood drawn on the canvas when we meet at ONE, I shall lay it down and then we shall see what becomes of it. Will you do what you say, step forward fearless and full of fury? Or will you cower and hide?
Joey stands up and stares at the items he put down on the table earlier.
Joey: What are you going to take from me Occulo? What is most important to me?
The fifty dollar note.
“Money?”
The belt.
“Sanctuary?”
The picture, zoomed in we see Alessandra Allegri and little Christian.
“Love?”
The camera pans onto the face of Joey once more, eyes staring straight through the camera.
Joey: These are ties that bind me to this life. See, anything you can take from me Occulo has already been a long time gone. My innocence was gone five years ago, I’ve seen suffering and I’ve lived it. I know the pain burning inside you so well it almost hurts. I know how badly you want to tear my head off and bathe in my blood, you’ve thought of nothing but. This is not about excitement for me, it isn’t about fighting tough or fighting hard. What is going to happen to us inside that cage is a boy, no... a man fighting for his life. I’m going to tell you something Occulo. When my soul was ripped out of me and the man was stood above me with the ‘match’, he smiled, laughed and blew it out. In my mind I was begging for him to just drop it, just drop it, end it here, please...
So if you want it that badly, you’re going to come at me looking to maim me, kill me. I won’t laugh in your face Occulo, I won’t smile. You come at me with that intent, passion and desire, I’ll be moved to such a point you don’t understand, come at me like that and believe me, this time I will finish the job. For both our sakes.
The camera feed cuts.
Joey sighs and leans over the table, a single tear drops onto the wood, and we see two small streams down his face. He picks the belt off the table.
Joey: Sanctuary.
END.
