Post by Natural ICE Beckman on Feb 1, 2015 15:22:07 GMT -5
(A chill hugs the pine needles as it races by on the wings of the wind through-out the northern woods. The wind takes us like a speeding bullet to the town known as the home of the World Champion, the place where the ICE AGE first frosted, and small little town called Foam Lake nestled in the middle of the forest. As we travel along this highway of nature everywhere there are battles taking place like the rhythm of nature’s tune. A chipmunk cracks a nut open is order to feast on its fleshy insides. An owl hunts down an innocent mouse with the glow of the moon’s light. A pack of wolves traps a family of rabbits against a cliff’s wall and release a blood thirsty howl into the night air before feasting on the cute furry creatures. All of them acts of nature that have been repeated over and over and all of them the perfect metaphor for the relationship between Steeltoe Joe and Natural ICE Beckman. All of them shiny perfect examples of how the strong will also feast on the weak and weather that weak force strives for the world or just another breathe of life, in the end the story is all the same. The nut shell lays empty, the mouse ends up a ball of barf, the bunnies end up as red artwork along the rocks and the ref raises ICE’s hand as Steeltoe limps to the back mumbling about how next time things begin different. Finally the wind drops us off from icy journey, leaving us to seek warmth in one of Foam Lake’s drinking establishments. Inside the bar the Drunk Money Crew is gathered around a table in the nearly empty place as closing time lingers nearby to ruin the current good time.)
ICE: And the Number One REASON Steeltoe Joe likes having Gonzo Deuce as his partner....He Actual Wins Matches!!!
(ICE slams the whiskey shot down as his crew Buck, PJ and Dee give the World Champion a round of drunken applause.)
Buck Fucker: I don’t know ICE; I think the number two reason was funnier.
DEE: Yeah, I agree with Buck and I usually don’t find butt rape jokes to be funny.
PJ: That one confused me, I thought they were wrestlers, not baseball players.
ICE: Alright boys, time for the next top ten list...this is titled...Top Ten Things Steeltoe Joe will Do After I beat Him for a Fourth Time.
DEE: Now are you going to do a shot after each item on this list as well?
ICE: Hey, I fucking figure a shot at Joe and a shot for me, it is only fair.
(ICE pours himself a shot of whiskey that is more like three fingers deep.)
ICE: Now, number ten: Joe will try to insult the ref by calling him Stan Slowser.
(ICE takes a drink.)
ICE: Number nine: Joe will cry.
(ICE takes his second shot.)
ICE: Number eight: Change his name to Need-a-New Job Joe.
(ICE lets the whiskey wash over his mouth.)
ICE: Number seven: Beg Gonzo over and over to remain his partner!
(Another burning shot before another burning insult.)
ICE: Number six: Cry some more!
(ICE downs another brown drink from heaven’s creation.)
ICE: Number five: Tell himself that maybe next he fights me the arena light will actually fall on me this time.
(ICE keeps on drinking.)
ICE: Number four: Angrily unfollow me on Twitter...and then refollow me later to see if I am saying about him.
(ICE keeps on pounding down the shots which comes as a shock to no one.)
ICE: Number three: Take it out on Eric Price, telling him that he couldn’t manager a Vending Machine.
(ICE is quick to get another shot up to his mouth and down his throat.)
ICE: Number two: Cry so much that he sets off nearby car alarms.
(ICE downs the next drink with such ease you would swear it is just brown water.)
ICE: And finally the Number One thing STJ will do after I beat him again at Payback....He will curse God, east a whole package of Oreo’s and fall asleep while trolling the boards on ChristianMingle.com!!!
(ICE slams down the last drink before slamming down the shot glass on the table.)
PJ: I liked that list, it reminded me how I dealt with Glee getting cancelled.
DEE: Glee hasn’t been cancelled; I watched it last week with my Mom.
Buck Fucker: I want to make fun of you for doing that Dee, but I feel like you just did.
ICE: And now onto the next list...the Top Ten Reasons Steeltoe has Such a Stupid Name.
(ICE reaches for the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a fresh shot and finds the saddest thing in this word...an empty bottle of booze.)
ICE: Barkeep, another bottle over here please.
(The small town bartender walks over to the Drunk Money INC’s table.)
Bartender: Sorry ICE man, but you have cleaned me out, I have no more booze.
ICE: Fine, then bring me a keg.
Bartender: You finished off all the beer as well.
ICE: Wait, no beer, no booze, no more alcohol at all?
(ICE begins the early signs of panic, which leads to hate, anger and usually a nerd getting their ass kicked.)
DEE: I am very scared all of a sudden.
ICE: All the fucking drink is gone and I am barely even drunk.
Buck Fucker: Maybe it is all those other drugs you have been doing? Maybe that shit ruined your tolerance.
ICE: It is not like I have done that much other shit.
PJ: I don’t know ICE, look at all those cleaned out baggies under your chair.
(Just as PJ mutters those truthful words a local cop walks by their table. PJ’s words make the officer look down at the pile of obvious plastic drug bags. He takes a moment to examine the situation before he looks up at ICE with a stern face. Dee worries about trouble from John Law just like you viewers at home are expecting when the officer finally speaks.)
Officer: Good Luck at Payback ICE Man; beat the crap out of Joe, that guy just annoys me for some reason.
(The cop causally moves along and out of the bar as the Drunk Money guys find their original topic.)
DEE: Maybe you need to take a break from drinking and drugs ICE.
ICE: A break from drinking and drugs? That is the stupidest thing I heard since I heard that Seth is giving Joe another chance at me and MY title.
Buck Fucker: It might make you be able to get drunker and higher faster next time.
ICE: Are you saying a week devoted to building up my tolerance?
PJ: That sounds boring....you should do a week of roller coasters, or sky diving or watching old Packer highlight films, something that is really exciting.
ICE: But I remember I am preparing for Steeltoe Joe this week...not a Bobby, not a DVS, not even a Jayson...I am facing Steeltoe “ZZZ” Joe, the man’s whose name is even boring. I mean named after a boot, something that walks through shit and gets thrown away once the first whole is formed.
DEE: No offense, but aren’t you named after a beer?
ICE: You mean beer, God’s Greatest gift according to Benjamin Franklin?
DEE: Good point ICE.
ICE: Also Dee, Shut the Fuck Up.
PJ: Yeah Dee, shut up and get me another beer!!!
DEE: PJ, didn’t you just hear what the bartender said about them being out of liquor?
PJ: Honestly I only listen when ICE speaks...for that is easy and gives me time to enjoy those colorful shapes over in that corner.
Buck Fucker: Wait, are you talking about the TV?
PJ: Yes, now where is my fresh beer!?!!
ICE: PJ....
PJ: Yes?
ICE: Shut the fuck up as well.
PJ: You got it dude.
ICE: But I think we are onto something here...to get ready for Joe, his usual bible thumping ways, his old school people’s division like moves, his melting under the big spotlight style...there is only one true way. To get ready for the ruin of the WCF, I must ruin my own life...or at least my mornings.
DEE: What are you talking about?
ICE: I vow to stay fucking sober each morning and not touch a drink until the universal drinking hour each day...one in the afternoon.
Buck Fucker: Sorry to fuck up your plan, but I think the actually universal drinking hour is more like at least five at night.
ICE: Really? Fuck people are boring....fine then in the spirit of the Pathetic Pastor, the God of No Fun...and Wins...I will stay sober and not drink each of the next seven days until 5 PM. Now gentlemen let this week of shitty sobriety begin with a toast.
Bartender: Uh, ICE man.
ICE: Right, we are out of booze...fine, then the experiment is officially on. Now who wants to go back to my place and make margaritas themed with Steeltoe insults?
(Everyone around the table shoots ICE a look.)
ICE: Oh fuck yeah, the not drinking thing.
(Beckman and his Drunk Money crew head out of the bar as the employees left behind begin to close up during the early morning hours...
SUNDAY
5:55pm
Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE lifts up, the feeling of being drunk helping dress him in a familiar skin for the first time today. He looks around his cabin much like a normal man might after a crazy night of drinking, but when it comes to ICE and this moment, things are the opposite. For what a normal drunk might describe as blacked out moments due to too much drink ICE is currently experiencing in reverse, meaning those moments of sobriety earlier in his day are now blacked out or forgotten moments to the Champion. ICE runs his fingers through his hair a few times as he sees a few odd things around his Foam Lake cabin, including the most odd thing...his fat friend PJ.)
ICE: What the hell happened this morning?
PJ: What do you mean, what happened?...You were here for it all., ICE man.
ICE: I might have been here...meaning my body was...but my mind...my SOUL wasn’t.
PJ: So you don’t remember what you did today?
ICE: Not a fucking thing.
PJ: Holy crap...holy crap.
(Dee comes whistling an upbeat song as he walks into the cabin’s main room.)
DEE: By the way ICE man, I was really impressed with your actions today.
PJ: Um....uh...Dee...maybe we shouldn’t say anything-
DEE: No, no, no PJ...ICE was a super cool dude today and he deserves all the praise I want to give him.
PJ: He doesn’t remember a thing from today, while he was Sober.
DEE:.....not a thing?
(ICE stands talk, cracks his neck and looks down at the skinny little man, feeling the booze and the need for some answers as he looks around the room to see his couch piled high with gift baskets, a litter of sickly looking flock of ducklings in a cage and a giant blown up picture of ICE smiling with his arm around Oprah.)
ICE: What the fuck did Sober me do, Dee?
DEE: Well, you said something about being the World Champ who actually gives back. So you gave a lot of your World Championship reign winnings to a bunch of different charities.
ICE: Did you remind this Sober me that fighting Joe is enough Charity for a week?
PJ: No, we didn’t ICE man, but we did remind him, I mean you that you hate Charity.
ICE: And what did Sober me say to that?
DEE: Not exactly sure, but it was something like...Snucker-doodles?
ICE: Fuck me...like really...Fuck Sober ME!
PJ: If you feel any better, at least Oprah was really nice. In fact she is sending me to a camp next summer; some place that helped her trim down.
DEE: And she gave me advice about my writing.
PJ: You mean how she told you not to write anymore?
DEE: I am talking that as constructive criticism Oprah’s way of challenging me as a writer.
PJ: I don’t know, she did yell it like twice...remember the second time was at the Sushi bar.
DEE: ICE you really don’t remember any of this?...It was just a few hours ago.
ICE: Not a fucking thing...fucking sobriety. Well that is the end of this fucking experiment; I am not going through with this all week.
PJ: But what about Your World Title?
ICE: What the shit are you talking about?
PJ: You said, fighting Steeltoe is Boring and You needed to train for that...you need to get ready with your mind, body and sole, right?...Although I never understood what the bottom of your foot had to with it.
DEE: Not that kind of sole PJ.
PJ: Oh wait, I get it...cause ICE kicks and stomps with the “sole” of his boot.
ICE: PJ, shut up. Also, fuck you...you are right. I must stick with this Sober me during the day thing...but it isn’t daytime anymore.
(ICE heads back to the table where there is a few empty beer cans and grabs a fresh one as he goes on piecing his sober morning into place.)
ICE: Now tell me the fucking bullet points, which fucking charities exactly did I waste my money on?
DEE: Well as you can see we did get a lot of gift baskets as thank yous, and they come with all sorts of treats and candies and soaps.
PJ: Which reminds me, make sure you double check before you eat anything; I am still coughing up bubbles.
ICE: What fucking charities?!!!
DEE: Did I mention how nice and friendly Sober you is?
PJ: And he doesn’t yell, but he does hug.
ICE: Just fucking tell me which fucking charities!!!!
DEE: Well there was the Boy Scouts of America...
ICE: Great I am helping a bunch of nerds.
DEE: And the Make a Wish Foundation...
ICE: And some sick nerds.
DEE: And finally The Hooters Society of America.
ICE: Well, fuck, at least Sober me like tits.
DEE: They actually help out endangered owls.
PJ: Don’t worry ICE man; I thought they helped boobs at first too.
ICE: PJ you get confused more often than the WCF Universe wonders why anybody would take managerial advice from Eric Price.
PJ: I don’t get that insult.
ICE: Exactly, now what the fuck about the baby ducks in the corner?
DEE: They were orphaned by their mother and you agreed to take them in and feed them...every 15 minutes...with a bottle dropper...full of pre-chewed food...that is chewed up first...by...you.
ICE: Oh fuck that. How did that come about?
PJ: You called every wildlife rescue center around until you found the toughest case. You said, that tough guys like you might be strong on the outside but are truly soft on the inside.
ICE: Get your story straight for once PJ. Tell him what I actually fucking said Dee.
DEE: Actually that is pretty much exactly right, although you added some stuff about how Steve truly loves his girls and ZMAC secretly has a heart of gold I don’t feel comfortable repeating right now.
ICE: And finally, what is with the Oprah thing? How much did I give that fucking woman beast?
PJ: I think the better question is, what did she give us....and honestly, the answer is My World.
ICE: Are you fucking crying PJ!!? That’s a Dee’s fucking thing to do!!
PJ: Sober ICE said crying is a manly thing to do!!! And so did Oprah!!!
ICE: Fuck me, I need to get drunk, really drunk, like so fucking drunk I forget who Steeltoe Joe is and right some of these many wrongs of caused by the disease of sobriety. But before I do, tell me how much exactly I wasted on charities today?
DEE: Something like $100,000.
ICE: Something like...something FUCKING like...alright, alright, time to drink!!
DEE: But remember, if you want to stay true to your training this week you have to stop drinking by midnight in order to be sober tomorrow.
ICE: Fine...that is more than enough time to get wasted and fuck up this world I tried to better today.
PJ: Look at the bright side ICE-
ICE: Fuck You PJ!!!
(ICE storms out of the cabin, grabbing his World Title and a big bottle of Vodka before he heads into the night like a wild animal ready to get drunk on the hunt.
PJ: I already miss Sober ICE.
DEE: Don’t worry PJ, he is just a sleep away.
(DEE and PJ head over to the cage of ducklings knowing that without speaking a word amongst each other that they are their responsibilities now...
MONDAY
5:49pm
Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE Beckman blinks himself into a world of hazy delight as the alcohol that is new to his system begins to play with his liver like jazz musician who loves heroin. As he looks around the room he is quick to recognize the building he is in as the Foam Lake VFW. He stands up, his legs finally feeling wobbly and the room just starting to spin with questions. And he finds the key to answering those questions smiling back at him like a good agent and older brother should. John winks at he can tell his drunk champion is back in his normal mindset.)
John: Am I speaking with Drunk Natural ICE then at this point?
(ICE looks around at the half empty bottle of Wild Turkey in front of him with a sigh and a smile.)
ICE: Yes...yes you fucking are...now your turn to answer some questions.
(But before John Beckman can respond a crowd of people coming flowing through the front door, all of them dressed in high class fashion. Women coming in with daring cool dresses and men come in with super sleek suits. They enter the space like a group of hungry bovines seeking food, drink and a comfortable place in which to visit. ICE Beckman pounds down a few more drinks of Wild Turkey as the scene develops in front of his soon to be double- vision eyes.)
ICE: What the fuck is going on?
John: Well Sober ICE was not super-duper okay with your reaction to all your finical giving to charities.
ICE: How fucking so?
John: Well to begin he was not too pleased about the message drunk you left on Oprah’s personal voicemail number.
ICE: Hahaha...what did I say?
John: Well...(John pulls his smart phone out and is quick to play the now famous voicemail message that Drunk ICE left on Oprah’s messages)...Listen for yourself...
(ICE listens with a growing smile.)
“Hey Oprah...aka Still FAT Oprah...how about your Selma movie? Good job teaching America about something that is over 50 years old...which reminds me...Steeltoe is an Over Told Story as well...but fuck that shit, for what really matter is this...I am not only taking my money back from your loser charity for the weak, but I am making my own...so HA!...I am better then you in every way now!!! Also Ellen is way better than you ever were...I bet...not that I have ever seen either of your shows...also...FUCK JOE!!”
(John stops the recording on his phone as ICE’s voice can still be heard speaking about how much he hates many things in the background.)
John: And as I was saying, Sober You fought back a little...well, more like a lot.
ICE: What did he-...I do now?
John: Well since you got your money back as a drunk last night and also pissed off Oprah the Sober You started this...a brand new charity.
(Drunk ICE Beckman wants to ask more but is interrupted by a rich old fellow wrapped in the shiny wrapping of expensive tuxedo.)
Rich Old Fart: Good evening Mr. Beckman.
ICE:......
John: Natural, I think he is talking to you.
ICE: Really, the only people who call me Mr. Beckman is...well...nobody.
Rich Old Fart: Well either way, I would like to thank you very much for starting this Charity.
(ICE shoots a glance at John faster than he does the Cocktailed Crossface.)
ICE: What did I do?
Rich Old Fart: Well Mr. Beckman, you started your very own charity, a beacon of true light in this world full of hate...the one you named...Societies Treasures Enormously Energized Lovingly To Overall Empathy.
ICE: Wait, you mean....the S.T.E.E.L.T.O.E.?
John: You said while he may be just a wrestling opponent, your respect for him deserves true recognition.
Rich Old Fart: Yes, you are a true inspirational speaker, Mr. Beckman.
ICE: Fuck OFF old man, don’t make me pretend you are Steeltoe.
Rich Old Fart: I don’t understand...are you saying I am worthy of charity?
ICE: I am saying FUCK OFF!!!
John: Artists can be...interesting, but their heart is always in the right place, now if you would give us a moment please.
(The Rich Old Fart heads off back to the masses of people forming as the Beckman brothers regain their original conversation.)
ICE: Tell me right fucking now, what sort of shit did Sober Me start now?
John: I guess the best way to put it is...your trying to help...everyone.
ICE: And by everyone you mean?
(But before ICE gets a verbal answer he is given a visual one as a whole cast of characters in needs comes walking into the VFW hall. The variety of people in need include: a group creepy old white man pastors, a faction of freaky tall ex-high school basketball stars, a caravan of unemployed bible pushers and finally just a parade of sad beaten down individuals, one right after another. As they enter they each take a moment to thank ICE for his actions of the day.)
Creepy Old Pastor: May God be with you like he is with every child I touch.
ICE: Holy shit get away from me.
Tall Ex-Basket Baller: I might be close to heaven due to my height, but you are the true one closer to heaven’s gate.
ICE: You are a freak for your height, plus those acne scares sure don’t help.
Bible Pusher: Have you ever heard the story of David and Goliath?
ICE: Trust me I will after watching Joe’s promos this week.
Pathetic Man: Can you wipe my ass? For I can’t reach anymore and the shit is backing up.
ICE: No Fucking way...but I can give you some advice, deal with it like STJ does, just shit out of your mouth.
(ICE smiles at his thoughtfulness which has sparked his thought process just enough to see for the most part what is going on right now.)
ICE: Me facing Steeltoe Joe at Payback may be the ultimate charity, hence this shit right here is too much.
John: What are you saying, Natural?
ICE: Fuck this giving back shit, fuck giving back at all, I will prove to the world that STJ is pathetic, is worthless, is never going to be good enough...I am here to announce....STEELTOE SUCKS!!!
(ICE’s scream echoes throughout the hall bringing even the music to silence, along with the cast of one millionaire’s attention in attendance for the fancy event.)
Rich Old Fart: Dear Mr. Beckman, what are you saying exactly?
ICE: Fuck STEELTOE, fuck all of you and Fuck Me...now I have till midnight to drink...now Get the Fuck Out of My Way!! I HAVE SOME DRINKING And Thinking, But mostly DRINKING TO DO!!!
(ICE storms out of the room, leaving the posh crowd looking for answers from Mr. Money Bags himself, John Beckman.)
John: The WCF World Champion Everybody!!!
(Rich crickets mold the mode of awkward silence that John has been left in.)
John: So, anyways, who is ready with their check books...I mean this is for a good cause after all.
(The rich folk crowd remembers their silk laced beds within their giant bedrooms inside their mansion sized homes and that is all it takes to trigger their rich person guilt as they all begin to still pull out their check books in order to help out the S.T.E.E.L.T.O.E. charity...
TUESDAY
5:42pm
Outskirts of Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE finds himself embracing DEE, PJ and Buck Fucker in what instantly becomes an unwelcomed hug as the storm of the drink begins to rain over his brain with an intoxicating downfall. ICE pushes back against the hugging men probably as instantly as he embraced it just moments before his brain crossed over to drunken town.)
ICE: What the hell is going on here?
DEE: I figured that third round of drinks would put him over the edge.
PJ: Well there goes the hugs, the nice words and probably all this.
Buck Fucker: No buck fucking way; ICE gave us this, he ain’t taking it away, he ain’t no Joe Blow Zebra Fuck, like that STJ flunky.
DEE: Well, you see Buck, ICE has being doing this Sober thing-
ICE: Oh Fuck No...You explain to me first exactly why I am sitting in this just sold big ass home.
Buck Fucker: Oh when you both said that it is Sober ICE vs. Drunk ICE, this is what you mean....now I get it.
PJ: Can we all just forget which ICE crap already? I mean we have a game room now!! Now who wants to challenge me at table top bubble hockey? I call being the U.S.S.R. side!!
ICE: What the fuck did Sober Me do now?
Buck Fucker: Hey Champ, don’t you remember, you bought Dee, PJ and Me this awesome fucking house right here in Foam Lake??
ICE: Holy fucking shit, I did not.
DEE: I told you Buck, we needed to ease him into this.
Buck Fucker: Fuck a rabbit in its butt, I ain’t chasing around the carrot like that, ICE said since his charity is no more that he would help his true friends this afternoon and the end result is this fucking awesome house on the lake.
ICE: The one that is twice as big as my fucking cabin.
PJ: Technically, it is at least three times as big as your cabin ICE; that is what Tammy our real-estate lady told me.
(ICE slumps down in a nearby chair and finds the rest of the bottle of wine with ease; by the time anyone breathes out again the bottle is empty and ICE is allowing his true state of sloshed reality to frame this picture of the unknown story.)
ICE: And why did Sober Me do this exactly?
PJ: Because we are besties...blood bothers...soul sons...the true Kings of your world.
DEE: Sober You said Drunk You might not understand charity for others, but he would appreciate it when given to friends.
ICE: But I hate you all.
DEE: I tried to tell him that, bug he hugged me and bought me a strawberry kiwi smoothie.
(ICE rips the cork of the nice bottle open with his jaws before pounding down the fermented grape juice.)
Buck: Don’t worry Champ; we are going to throw a party in your name as soon as we settle in.
PJ: We sure are, in fact I am just about to head off in my new truck to the dollar store in get decorations...now tell me ICE man, what party theme do you prefer? Disney’s Frozen or random stuff from the office supply aisle?
ICE: God damnit PJ!!!
(Beckman takes another group of mighty chugs from the bottle of wine before cleaning his beard his Vapor Kings sweatshirt sleeve.)
ICE: You know I am a fucking Belle from Beauty in the Beast guy!!!
Buck Fucker: Haha...I am a Snow White guy!
PJ: I loved the Aladdin chick. She was very...mexcaian.
DEE: She was Abriain.
PJ: More like she was a Abrain me...in bed...with her boobs.
(The sound of an empty hits the table.)
Buck Fucker: I don’t know, those Middle Eastern chicks get sand stuck in their downstairs bushes I hear from my many military buds.
DEE: Can I make a new house rule, No Vagina Talk at the Dinner Table Please.
PJ: I agree, no China talk or North Korean talk either.
(A waft of grape scented burp hangs in the air as another empty bottle hits the table.)
Buck Fucker: Also if I am doing a chick, I get the kitchen.
DEE: Kitchen? Just use your bedroom!
Buck Fucker: I like to eat while doing it, now agree to that or move out.
PJ: Um, does anyone else see how red ICE’s face is getting?
(Another bottle is drained as Dee and Buck continue their conversation.)
DEE: All I am is saying is, no one can do it In my breakfast nook.
Buck Fucker: And all I’m saying is I Fuck who I want, where I want, when I want.
DEE: I suppose the deer could confirm that.
Buck Fucker: Maybe He COULD!!!
(ICE slams an empty wine bottle down so hard it explodes on the table of the house his sober stupid self bought just hours ago...and then he smiles.)
ICE: I am Drunk.
PJ: Bye-bye Tickle Fight Tuesday.
(The entire Drunk Money crew looks at ICE, as he slurs his speech like a pro.)
ICE: Which means I have til’ midnight to undo Sober Me’s work.
DEE: What does that exactly mean?
ICE: You want this home to truly be yours? Well then...time to fight for it...just like Steeltoe will have to at Payback...by hoping not to embarrass yourself while fighting for the thing you want most in this world.
Buck Fucker: Fine dude, the fight is on. Should we get out the Super Nintendo, I think I have Mario Kart.
ICE: I mean we fight we our fists, and whatever else is around...like in the name of fun...(thinks of STJ)...and whatever pisses you off for like being the bad kind of weed.
DEE: Fine, I will fight, but first can I say truly ICE, that was a really good point you just made about this fight and STJ versus You at Payback?
ICE: Dee, for that bullshit sucking up attempt, I am going to put your head through the wall first.
PJ: And then we can kick him in the butt with ease!
Buck Fucker: Damnit PJ, it is us three against ICE!!!
PJ: But I would never fight ICE Man!!!
Buck Fucker: Put it this way, if ICE wins and destroys this house, you have to move back in with Dee and his mom.
PJ: Oh man, but I already scored with his mom and now she is all needy, I can’t go back there.
ICE: Alright, FICHT TIME!!
DEE: Hold on, Time Out, PJ and I need to-
(ICE grabs Dee by the heads and throws him like a dart at the wall. As Dee crumbles to the floor Buck runs at ICE with PJ coming from the other side like storming rhino. ICE is quick to grab one of the empty wine bottles and shatter it against the table in order to make a stabbing weapon. It freezes PJ and Buck which causes ICE to smile.)
ICE: What does the joker say...everything burns...I wonder if he meant Holy Bullshit Flames as well...either way I bet this house dose...
(ICE ducks out of the room like a madman on a drunken rampage ready to prove to the world that the only thing that matters is that moment, whether it be a bad idea or a great one, thinking is the only enemy of truly living in the moment...
WEDNESDAY
5:38pm
Outskirts of Foam Lake County
...ICE tastes dirt. But it has a nice hint of whiskey within the grains of filth. He looks up to see a dark blue cover wrapping the day up like it’s a present for tomorrow as he feels alive in his three ring circus of a brain. But not all systems that make the Beckman the Champion are a go as he tries to stand up.)
ICE: Oh fuck me.
(ICE crumbles to the ground, clutching his trembling thighs. He rolls onto his back and feels something familiar touch his arm. He reaches over find his best friend, in all her sexy coolness and warmth companionship....his flask.)
ICE: Come to Daddy.
(ICE goes for a big drink but sadly only finds a drop.)
ICE: Fuck.
(ICE lays his head down on the road, for some reason he is barely drunk, but unable to get up.)
ICE: WHAT IS THIS HELL!!!?
(ICE lays back down on the road as he hears his last ditch effort of frustration echo through-out the pine tree forest. ICE feels his muscles tingling, his feet barking, his fingers aching, his heart beat pacing, his legs twitching and his armpits drenched with sweat and is almost enjoying it like it is a his last hit of a drug before he fades back to sobriety when headlights blind him in the face as the come up the dirt road. The car comes to a screeching halt right in front of the body of ICE Beckman. All the doors of the car fling open at once and ICE hears a worm out old medley of voices.)
PJ: I think this one is not a deer or a passed out hunter.
John: It better be ICE, for that passed out hunter you just mentioned almost shot off my ear when he woke him up.
DEE: Wait, I know that lump of humanity...I used it in my original painting.
Buck Fucker: The one you showed me, that painting you call the “True melting of the ICE”?
DEE: Shhh, ICE might hear you say that.
ICE: Too late...too fucking late.
(ICE may be drained from energy, but his fuel for hate helps him perk up a bit with just the tone of his closest friends and families voices.)
DEE: Hey look, I found ICE, I saved ICE!
ICE: Shut the fuck up DEE.
(ICE lifts his head enough off the ground to see his Drunk Money crew coming at him with a mixture of wobbles and limps. ICE notices that they to seem to be a bit out of commission for the moment. ICE notices PJ’s arm in a sling first, Dee’s head wrapped second and Buck on crutches. Yet John Beckman is the first one to get to him thanks to a lack of injury. But John does not cradle his client, his brother, he just stands over him in order to enjoy the moment.)
John: Well I guess your jog is over then?
ICE: Fucking shit, what did Sober Me do now?
(PJ helps ICE Beckman up to a sitting position while at the same time giving him an open beer which ICE is quick to drink to help off his sobriety as he listens to the mullet man speak.)
Buck Fucker: Never mind that ICE dude; I would rather talk about what Drunk You did last night.
ICE: Something about bringing down the house; like I put Steeltoe is his place once and for all by destroying his very own home.
Buck Fucker: No...you tried to destroy our bitch ass Home!...And Our Drunk Money Crew dude!
ICE: Oh now the drunk memories are all fading back from the haze in my mind. Oh fuck yeah, I fucked up your home...that I bought you...Fuck, please tell me I burnt it down.
Buck Fucker: No, but you broke my bad ass foot.
DEE: And concussed my brain.
PJ: And hurt my feelings...oh, and my arm.
ICE: Well that makes me feel a little better.
DEE: Hey ICE, any interest in becoming buddy truck drivers together? We could ride the highways of America and solve crimes like Magnum P.I.
PJ: Stop asking everyone that DEE, are you sure you are okay?
DEE: As long as John is here with me I am.
John: Okay, time for me and ICE to give you three some privacy.
Buck Fucker: Why the shit do we need privacy?
DEE: Now Buck, I think it would be good for us to talk, really talk, for we are roomies now after all...so, who wants to be in charge of Sunday brunch or more importantly, should I make a chores wheel?
Buck Fucker: What the chicken shit crap?
PJ: A chore wheel? I hate chores, but love wheels. But obviously we do need some time to talk, come on Buck.
DEE: Hey guys, if the moon really is cheese, does that mean as people from Wisconsin we owe it.
PJ: Are you sure your head feels okay Dee?
(John Beckman has already given his client a fresh flask of whiskey while in order to help Your Champion to his feet, but they have watched in awe the strange dynamic play out in front of them. As the three walk away for this privacy John and ICE allow the cold wind to brace them back into Beckman form.)
ICE: Fuck, all this tolerance I have built by taking the last few daytimes off from drinking, I can’t even remember last night.
John: Well you did finish off a case of beer and a gallon of moonshine...wait, does that mean you don’t exactly remember what you did last night? What you did your buddies and that new house you bought them?
ICE: Pieces of images, but like Steeltoe in the wrestling ring I don’t have the total package.
John: So you don’t remember trying to burn down their garage and when PJ tried to put it with the hose you pushed him into a patch of ice which caused him to hurt his arm.
ICE: No, but if fucking sounds funny.
John: Imagine what it would look like to see the Pillsbury dough man slip on a pad of butter.
ICE: So what about Buck and his hurt foot?
John: He got that falling off the roof while chasing you after you start pulling rooking tiles off their house. And Dee, well Dee had a brick fall on his head after you took a sledgehammer to their chimney, and from the sound of him, he is not doing good.
ICE: But was it funny to watch happen?
John: Never been a big fan of the three stooges, but it seemed like a scene right from that show.
ICE: Good shit...good shit...now onto the bad news...what the fuck did Sober Me do to me today, I feel like crap and not in the good way.
John: Well Sober You decided that you have given enough to others this week and that it was time for you to do something good for you.
ICE: Wait, my wobbly legs, my sweaty brow...my jog? Fuck no.
John: You got it, Sober You made you go on a health kick.
ICE: Fucking shit, you mean eating right, working out, that sort of shit.
John: He had you doing Yoga.
ICE: You mean those aren’t log underwear under my sweatpants, but tights?
John: Electric bright tights...that you have to borrow from Dee.
ICE: You mean my junk is sweating...in Dee’s tights?
John: Well you borrowed them from Dee, but he actually got them from...
ICE: Don’t say it!
John:...his mom...sorry man.
(John takes a few moments before he dares look back at ICE, but by the time he does ICE is chugging the flask like he is stranded on desert island and he just found water for the first time.)
ICE: This is getting to be too fucking much...I hate this shit...but Father Roman would be proud of the rage boiling inside...the images of Steeltoe bleeding that are over taking my eyes right now.
John: But if it makes you feel any better you are winning.
ICE: I always win against Joe, check the record books. I mean that fucking guy’s only comeback to that is bring up other names, for when it comes to him against me, he knows his shit name is fucking tainted.
John: I wasn’t talking about Steeltoe Joe, I was talking about Sober You...from what I saw today, Sober You has a little bit less bounce in his step, a lot less hugging and when Dee asked him for a ride to the ER he snapped at him.
ICE: You can take the drink out of the drunk.
John: But you can’t take the drunk out of the man.
ICE: Well now that is the boost of energy I needed. Time to ruin any work Sober Me did today, now the nearest buffet from here in the Strip Club just off the interstate, but before we head there...I need to call my guy Eddie. Let’s see how much Sober Me can get down when he is busy shitting out cheap taco meat while coming down off the trip of a life time. Now time to take back the Night One Step At a Time!!
(ICE takes a step away from John’s support and immediately his weaken legs give way and he collapses back down to the ground. John rolls his eyes before helping his client and younger brother back up.)
John: Fuck, how the crap did Catsy deal with you?
ICE: He has a crazy bad milk addiction; that good shit gets him through anything.
John: And how the hell are you a professional athlete? You can barely survive one day of working out?
ICE: Fighting in the ring is a completely different animal, the adrenaline I find in the ring never lets me down...not that you would get that brother, for honestly you sucked as a wrestler.
(John drops ICE back on the ground, which doesn’t stop ICE from laughing at his insult. His laugh turns into a cackle as the rhythm of the liquor slip-slides down his blood stream and ICE begins to picture his night of gluttony to come...
THURSDAY
5:34pm
Sunrise, Florida
...ICE Beckman slinks down farther on very uncomfortable couch which causes his feet to knock over a nearly empty 40 oz. bottle of malt liquor onto the concrete floor. ICE feels the warming feeling of beer hops and an extremely high alcohol content doing the waltz across his taste buds like two lovers embracing before they fuck like animals later that night. And that makes ICE Beckman smile.)
ICE: Where the fuck am I now?
(ICE asks out loud hoping for someone to answer him, but finds no such luck. But the booze begins to open his eyes a bit and he looks around to see himself in some sort of old wrestling gym. Banners with tattered edges of past wrestling stars hang on the walls, pre-war like exercise equipment is set up in one corner and in the opposite is the couch that ICE is sitting on surrounded by a few other furniture items themed with the idea of relaxation. The star of the gym is sitting in the middle of the gym, a big old dusty wrestling ring. ICE finds the knocked over bottle and begins to drain what is left when a familiar, but not instantly recognizable voice is heard boasting as someone new walks into the room. ICE stops the voice mid-sentence as his brain fires just right to remind your World Champion who exactly that is speaking to him.)
ICE: Manly Gaga...the jobber from the house show last week...is that fucking you?
Manly Gaga: Well, that was my name, last week, when you almost ended my career in the ring, but that was last week and besides you already begged my apology earlier today...don’t you remember that?
ICE: Oh fuck Sober Me.
Manly Gaga: I don’t understand, are you talking about how you had to go to the bathroom a lot today? I mean don’t you remember how much you did for me today?
ICE: Fuck, please refresh my mind.
Manly Gaga: Is this some sort of test or something?
ICE: FUCKING SHIT...just tell me!!!
Manly Gaga: Well, um, where to start...well first you pulled me out of my mom’s basement, you said you were sorry for hurting me so bad, something about how that was just the drunk you.
ICE: Fucking shit, did I hug you while doing this?
Manly Gaga: Well, yeah, a few times. And then you said you were going to make right what you had wronged me and you were going to help my career as a wrestler get started.
ICE: Fuck, tell me I fucking didn’t.
Manly Gaga: So, should I stop telling the story?
ICE: Just keep fucking going.
Manly Gaga: Why are you swearing so much all of a sudden?
ICE: Because I have a Sobriety Hangover the size of the World, I have a moron named Steeltoe Joe who have I buried more than a gravedigger does dead people in a month and now I am finding out that I have wasted my day helping a...a...fuck, I can’t even say the word!!
Manly Gaga: A future World Champion?
ICE: A future World WHAT?!!? Fuck, I can say it now...I spent the whole day helping YOU...A FUCKING JOBBER!!! Oh shit, if Buddy hears about this, if ZMAC does, fuck I will never live it down.
Manly Gaga: So you are having second thoughts about The ICE Avenger.
ICE: Who the fuck is the ICE Avenger?
Manly Gaga: Me...and again when did you start cursing so much?
ICE: Fucking birth I would guess, now back to this fucking ICE Avenger idea.
Manly Gaga: It was your idea; you said I could rise to the top even faster if I rode your coattails.
ICE: And inform me more about this brilliant idea of mine.
Manly Gaga: You said that I would be the True Hero is the ICE AGE, in that every place that you drank and did drugs and other awful things, I would be the counter force, the force of true good, a hero for the people, maybe even someone who could spread the love. In fact you helped me rename my finishing move from the Mad Romance to the Cuddle Crossface.
(ICE doesn’t say anything, only responds with a very deep, very heavy sigh.)
Manly Gaga: I mean we talked all day about hard work, and giving it our all and how I could one day be a big as you...a true WCF Superstar...what has changed?...Are you drunk?
ICE: Not enough.
Manly Gaga: Here, want another 40 then?
ICE: Yes...yes I fucking do.
(ICE snaps the over-sized bottle from the jobber known as Manly Gaga like a wounded animal being offered a piece of fresh meat.)
Manly Gaga: So, my mom just called she said she has finished my ICE Avenger suit...she said the symbol you designed was pretty tough, but she thinks she was able to make it look like I was saluting the heavens. She also said she was proud to hear that such a good man was helping me.
(Something deep down inside of ICE is creeping up, from the fiery hell parts of his soul. The place where hate feasters and brews inside something truly bad and evil. And this, dark force, nameless to those of you who don’t have a temper, whatever it is it begins to tickle ICE’s voice box like a blind man who knows how to play the piano. It doesn’t know what the keys look like; but it knows how to play the tune.)
ICE: Tell me, Manly Avenger...Gaga Freak Boy...Whoever the Fuck you are...are you a religious jobber?
Manly Gaga: Well, you told me earlier that jobber is only a word created by those who fear the undercard.
ICE: Just tell me, are you a religious man?
Manly Gaga: Well, my mom always said a good boy, I mean man, loves his mother, hides behind no outside influence...(takes a leering look at ICE chugging the 40 ounces of malt liquor)... and yes, she taught me to trust in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirits.
(ICE smiles, but not a happy smile, not a smile fueled with confidence, or a grin flamed by evil, but a smile that awakes his fists, a smile that sounds the wake up call to his boots and like an alarm sounds awake his true spirit...one that is born from hate.)
ICE: Tell me...do you cry like a bitch sometimes?
Manly Gaga: Well...maybe...sometimes.
(ICE stands, finishing the second bottle of malt liquor before letting it fall and shatter on the floor. But the whole time ICE keeps his eyes staring at the jobber.)
ICE: Tell me...do you bleed, do you break, do you lose....oh wait, I know that answer...don’t I?
(ICE looks at his fingers, he flexes them into fists as he lets them tell him a tale of a painful past. He sees them gaining strength as they ball themselves into one. He feels the hate flow from his heart to his ability to act while the words of Roman echo through-out his mind. Like a crazy drunk ICE begins to act like a crazy drunk and that is why his smile grows.)
Manly Gaga: What is wrong...what is going on with you ICE?
(Manly Gaga stands up and begins to back pedal at YOUR World Champion begins to slowly walk towards him, with his frozen heart spewing hate and his mouth promoting such thoughts.)
ICE: You know what dude, man...boy...you have begun to remind me of someone I hate.
Manly Gaga: Is it your friend, PJ, I mean he is a fat fool, right?
ICE: No, PJ is fun to hang out with, same with Dee and Buck Fucker...hell even John knows how to truly fuck around with life...so I ask you fucking again, DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD!!! A FUCKING HIGHER POWER or WHAT?!!!
Manly Gaga: I...I....um...uh...can I quickly call my mom, please?
ICE: Nope, but let’s go back to playing the game? WHO DO YOU REMIND ME OF???!!!
Manly Gaga: Um...Steel...toe...Joe?
(ICE smiles.)
ICE: Ding-Ding...you got the answer right....yet so very wrong...all at the same time.
Manly Gaga: Is this the end of the ICE Avenger?
ICE: Hopefully.
Manly Gaga: Oh god.
ICE: Sorry, that fucker doesn’t answer Joe’s pleas in the ring so he for sure isn’t answering yours right fucking now.
(Beckman grabs the jobber and begins to tenderize the fresh meat by slamming his head into the ground, the scooping him up and throwing his into the free weights and as the jobber blood flows, ICE yanks him up and rolls him into the ring. ICE is quick to follow him in and stand over him like a wolf ready to sink his teeth into his fresh kill...
FRIDAY
5:29pm
Miami, Florida
...ICE feels a sea of empty plastic shot glasses as he arm slides around the bar top like a snake does through the underbrush of a jungle, looking for its next victim in which to drain clean. But ICE stops before he finds his next drink, for the world he remembered has left him with a lot of questions and plenty of fuzzy sober answers. But this time his crew is ready and around with answers.)
ICE: What the fuck is going on now?
DEE: Hey, look drunk ICE is here?!
Buck Fucker: Sober Him will be happy, I suppose.
PJ: Sober Him has pretty much given up, am I right?
DEE: I told know he put this together, didn’t he?
Buck Fucker: That Sober Bitch...I mean Sober ICE...was sad and not talking much, but he did do this.
ICE: And what the Fuck is this?
(ICE looks around to see a bunch of pimple faced virgins and their moms, gathered in a banquet room of the Miami Hilton hotel. As ICE scours the large room he sees nerds, freaks and bible bouncers of all kinds before he finally sees a banner that truly pisses him off.)
ICE: What the shit is that banner....”Welcome Steeltoe Faithful: Your time is coming soon”?
PJ: Are you mad we didn’t spelling coming with a u?
Buck: I told you, Buck Fucker and Bobby the C would have.
DEE: You both have also lost to ICE then.
ICE: Time to teach Sober Me a true lesson.
Buck: You nearly burned down our house...twice...for I didn’t find the fire you started in the basement until we got back from finding you after your shit crack jog.
PJ: Also, you put that jobber he tried to help in insensitive care yesterday. He can only mumble two phrases now, something about” keep ICE away from me” and “where is my mommy?”, it is funny ass shit alright.
DEE: Oh, and you never got back to me about becoming Truck Driver Detectives.
(Agent John Beckman comes walking up to the crew, knowing his client, brother and World Champion needs a little education.)
John: Well Natural, here is Sober You lasts hurray...a big group of Steeltoe Joe fans, that you have-
ICE: No Fucking No, I don’t give a shit what I tried to do earlier.
John: Good point, but I at least want you to know...Sober You gave this a half assed effort. Meaning yeah he gathered this loser STJ fans, but honestly he couldn’t do much more.
PJ: Yeah, and he didn’t even hug me once.
ICE: Are you saying what I think you saying?
John: Drunk ICE is winning.
DEE: Oh darn...he might be right...but oh darn...also what about all these STJ fans, we promised them a big time speech.
Buck Fucker: And I think they are about to get a fucking doggie doddle one...right about now.
(ICE Beckman, with a few glasses of whiskey in his no longer trembling hands, steps to the microphone that is attached to the podium for the hotel conference hall. He grasps the edges of the wood and feels the booze help seek out the thoughts that matter in his sea of a mind. And with an evil grin, his father’s grin, ICE shoots the crowd with his words.)
ICE: Steeltoe Joe is not worthy of being World Champion. He may have hung around here a while but his career is more laced with big time losses than it is big time wins. He has blanketed himself with a cloud of God and Friends to help him get through the many...many bad times. But he and I both need to get ready for the future. And that is where I stand right now, waiting for him to catch up. Like I am the Hare and he the tortoise, but see that fable is not a story to me, but a lesson and that is why I have not bothered with a nap this week, rather I have pricked myself awake. I took what I hate and I grew with the fear, the anger, the want, in order to become a better wrestler.
(ICE begins to use powerful words to dash the spirits of those in attendance...and their moms.)
ICE: Steeltoe Joe couldn’t beat Bobby Cairo last week could he...but that is not surprise...but he couldn’t even hang with Bobby C, could he? He wasn’t even good enough to compete with the man I beat. Yet he is going to be standing across from me at Payback. Your support for him in this moment is admirable, but undeserving. For here is a man, only willing to work hard when something that matters is on the line, for he is not only a loser, a beggar drowning in quick sand, but he is the shit that God hates. A false, hoping to cheat death with the least amount of effort, a villain in the night; hell people I am telling you that this wrestler, this failure, is not the God you want him to be, or even the man you want to praise, but a devil, who relies of easy outs and blessed sins of Seth in order to get what he does not deserve!!!
(The crowd of STJ super fans call out with cheers and support for their champion of the people.)
ICE: I hear you praises for the man and our questions of why I have changed and I want you to know I hear them, but not those or crying for vengeance, crying for pain against me...but those are cries of Hate. Pure and simple, a God given American right, HATE!! Hell, HATE is a God Given WORLD Right.
(ICE taps his World Title for internal comfort while the once crowded room of cheers have quieted in order to hear ICE speak; for while they are supporters of Joe, they love wrestling more than anything. )
ICE: I am telling you people...I HATE Steeltoe Joe. And I am fine if you hate me for just saying that. Fuck I might just hate you back. But that is not only because I know how to be human. For people like Steeltoe might seem nice and, what are his words Holy? Unwavering? Tough as nails? Sound like a reason he loses, an excuse as to why and his bullshit for afterwards. Steeltoe really needs to start looking into the mirror, for his gimmick might come easy be his wrestling doesn’t. He likes to lean towards the Bible out of the ring, but he sure can’t find heavenly help within it. Hence the Steel Holy Joe Godfucker thing is over and the ICE AGE is going to freeze it out in Florida this week. For how many times can you lose in the spotlight and still are able to talk like you belong there?
(A silent crowd responses with eyes down and folded hands.)
ICE: So the past is the past, time to talk future...the chapter of the ICE AGE. The one about a wrinkled old giant who shriveled up like a grape in the cold blue sun and when that now big fat raisin tries to rise again one day people will only remember it as a shitty pruned loser forever never worth tasting again. In other words, in more simple words, Steeltoe’s flock is a dying faith, soon Joe will nothing at all. A man trapped in a glass ceiling box, who was given chance after chance to climb up to the next level but could never break through. And this room will whimper at his feet, unless...unless you don’t, unless you learn. And come into the cold, the frozen ICE AGE and find the warmth of winning. For hell, and I am speaking to the STJ fans in this room, maybe you could say Fuck You Mom, Fuck Steeltoe, Fuck Whatever God you Make me Love and....
(You could hear a pin drop as the whole room is listening.)
ICE: Have Sex with a Girl.
(A mixture of gasps follow ICE’s last statement.)
ICE: But back to the point, the Hate, the fun of it all. Steeltoe is going to fail again, he isn’t going to get his Payback, rather just dig himself further into a hole of defeat. People talk about deflate-gate in the NFL, but when Joe loses again to the biting sting of the ICE AGE he is going to be nothing more than a never was. And that will make him, you and your fucking moms, all just people wasting your fucking time. Now I am going to go out there, drink the shit out that hotel bar, get my hands on whatever I can as far as drugs and have a good fucking night and prove to the world why fucking sobriety is only a myth to any Fucking person who lives. Whether it be the fucking TV, the gym, the drink or the fucking hard ass drugs, or whatever pills you love, or even Steeltoe who must love getting rimmed by the ICE AGE, everyone is fucking hooked on something. So tonight I am going to show why Sober Me is as worthless as trying to get people to pay for a pay per view that involves a man who only had to beat Adam Young to get another title shot. Now time to get FUCKED UP!!!
(ICE begins to storm off the stage to a strange off beat claps from the sea of strange people while their mothers try to stop them. ICE knocks over both nerds and moms as he strangely storms through them on his way out of the room and into a night full of things you have all seen in many of ICE’s past promos...
SATURDAY
5:19pm
Miami, Florida
...ICE Beckman shakes his head and finds himself swirling around a few ice cubes within a small glass as he looks around to find where he is. Things come to him simply, the hint of weed on his clothes, the taste of coke in the back of his throat, the feeling of his vision finding focus after his many different trips. ICE looks over to find his brother, in a hotel suite, just outside the arena for Payback.)
ICE: Shit...this feels...normal...drunk and just right.
John: I bet it does for You Won.
ICE: Steeltoe wised up and threw in the white towel?
John: Not yet, but yet again I am talking about-
ICE: Sober Me.
John: He just sat there today, didn’t do a thing but leave you this note...“You beat me, drink up and now go beat the Holy Hell out of Steeltoe.”
ICE: So, what time to toast to my favorite thing...Drinking.
John: Actually, I only brought the one drink.
ICE: Don’t pull a STJ line John; bullshit lines like that only work for Corey Black and the other WCF Jobbers.
(John pulls out a small bottle of rum as a present for his brother, client and champion’s week long victory over his hateful mission. As ICE enjoys the drink he feels back in his own skin; a feeling he knows will only get stronger when he beats Steeltoe again. Because we all know nothing makes you feel more like yourself then getting back in your old habit; so there the two Beckman watch as the sun slips down past the horizon for another beautiful Florida sunset.)
John: Well Natural, any final thoughts on your big match.
ICE: Considering I’ve become the WCF Pope, considering there are large portions of the week that I don’t remember and considering this moment with nature screaming the perfect metaphor as once again the sun sets of Steeltoe’s hopes...nope I think it is about summed up. Now it is time to get it done in the ring...I am coming Joe, to hurt you, to beat you and keep the ICE AGE alive.
(ICE and John toast the sky as they clink glasses as the promo fades off to black.)
Sober ICE vs Drunk ICE
Static...static...black screen....then something extra pops up.
(Dee is suddenly on your screen like an unwelcomed mother in law house guest.)
DEE: Hey ICE AGE fans, welcome to the second super special Promo Bonus Footage; which is your free gift for making it through the whole promo. Now here is some bonus footage from me and my pals Buck Fucker and PJ discussing the week, our new house and all the other whacky happenings in our lives.
(A single shot from a second class camera turns on showing Dee, PJ and Buck sitting around their kitchen table in the house that Sober ICE bought them earlier in the week.)
Buck Fucker: I am not doing a themed dinner each night of the week.
DEE: Fine, no Greek Wednesdays or Mexican Thursdays.
PJ: Wait, no Mexican Thursdays? Then who is going to do the yard work?
DEE: I think you were confused...and a little racist...bout that one Dee.
Buck Fucker: And as long as we are saying NO to things, I am saying No to that Cage Full of Fucking sick ducks.
PJ: I am not getting rid of Huey, Dewey, Louie and their mother Scrooge McDuck.
DEE: That is a terrible name for the mother duck.
PJ: Fine, I will go back to her original name....Optimus Prime.
Buck Fucker: That is even worse, but that shit don’t matter for we ain’t keeping them, they cry all night long.
DEE: That isn’t the ducks....PJ was watching The Notebook on TV.
Buck Fucker: That fucking noise was you!?
PJ: You know what I might hang out with sick ducks, and cry louder than a fire truck...but what about you guys and your annoying shit?!
DEE: I don’t have any annoying habits.
PJ: What about that super loud annoying machine you were using earlier today?!!
Buck Fucker: PJ you moron, that is called a Vacuum Cleaner.
PJ: Well fine Buck, but what about you shooting up all of Dee’s dolls?
DEE: Wait, you don’t mean my limited edition, never before played with, action figures, do you?
Buck Fucker: Hey I might have blown them up with my badass 12 gauge, but how I am post to score with chicks with toys everywhere!!
DEE: Damnit Buck, I am sure the hooker won’t care, as long as you pay her.
PJ: Not always true Dee, I have paid them before and they gave me a refund after I took my shirt off...so HA, joke is on you.
DEE: I can’t believe you Buck, if I wasn’t a peaceful man, I would....I would...
Buck Fucker: What tell your Mommy on me? Hahaha.
PJ: Hey speaking of your mom, thinks she might want to come over and cook us dinner, I am sick of eating ketch-up packets until I get full...it takes like all day.
DEE: Well I guess that brings up back to my Themed Dinners idea.
Buck Fucker: That idea is gayer than you Dee.
DEE: That is Buck...I have had it...I am going to kill you.
(Dee stands on his chair as Buck gets to his feet.)
Buck Fucker: Bring it on Nerd-o-bot! I will crush you easier than ICE does that Joe Ho guy!
DEE: Careful Buck, I use my nails!!
PJ: AHHHHHH!!!! FIGHT!!!!!
(DEE jumps at Buck as PJ charges into Buck’s gut. The three dysfunctional roommates fall backwards into the camera causing the screen to shake and rumble before it cuts to a static screen and finally black at the bonus part of the promo comes to an end.)
ICE: And the Number One REASON Steeltoe Joe likes having Gonzo Deuce as his partner....He Actual Wins Matches!!!
(ICE slams the whiskey shot down as his crew Buck, PJ and Dee give the World Champion a round of drunken applause.)
Buck Fucker: I don’t know ICE; I think the number two reason was funnier.
DEE: Yeah, I agree with Buck and I usually don’t find butt rape jokes to be funny.
PJ: That one confused me, I thought they were wrestlers, not baseball players.
ICE: Alright boys, time for the next top ten list...this is titled...Top Ten Things Steeltoe Joe will Do After I beat Him for a Fourth Time.
DEE: Now are you going to do a shot after each item on this list as well?
ICE: Hey, I fucking figure a shot at Joe and a shot for me, it is only fair.
(ICE pours himself a shot of whiskey that is more like three fingers deep.)
ICE: Now, number ten: Joe will try to insult the ref by calling him Stan Slowser.
(ICE takes a drink.)
ICE: Number nine: Joe will cry.
(ICE takes his second shot.)
ICE: Number eight: Change his name to Need-a-New Job Joe.
(ICE lets the whiskey wash over his mouth.)
ICE: Number seven: Beg Gonzo over and over to remain his partner!
(Another burning shot before another burning insult.)
ICE: Number six: Cry some more!
(ICE downs another brown drink from heaven’s creation.)
ICE: Number five: Tell himself that maybe next he fights me the arena light will actually fall on me this time.
(ICE keeps on drinking.)
ICE: Number four: Angrily unfollow me on Twitter...and then refollow me later to see if I am saying about him.
(ICE keeps on pounding down the shots which comes as a shock to no one.)
ICE: Number three: Take it out on Eric Price, telling him that he couldn’t manager a Vending Machine.
(ICE is quick to get another shot up to his mouth and down his throat.)
ICE: Number two: Cry so much that he sets off nearby car alarms.
(ICE downs the next drink with such ease you would swear it is just brown water.)
ICE: And finally the Number One thing STJ will do after I beat him again at Payback....He will curse God, east a whole package of Oreo’s and fall asleep while trolling the boards on ChristianMingle.com!!!
(ICE slams down the last drink before slamming down the shot glass on the table.)
PJ: I liked that list, it reminded me how I dealt with Glee getting cancelled.
DEE: Glee hasn’t been cancelled; I watched it last week with my Mom.
Buck Fucker: I want to make fun of you for doing that Dee, but I feel like you just did.
ICE: And now onto the next list...the Top Ten Reasons Steeltoe has Such a Stupid Name.
(ICE reaches for the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a fresh shot and finds the saddest thing in this word...an empty bottle of booze.)
ICE: Barkeep, another bottle over here please.
(The small town bartender walks over to the Drunk Money INC’s table.)
Bartender: Sorry ICE man, but you have cleaned me out, I have no more booze.
ICE: Fine, then bring me a keg.
Bartender: You finished off all the beer as well.
ICE: Wait, no beer, no booze, no more alcohol at all?
(ICE begins the early signs of panic, which leads to hate, anger and usually a nerd getting their ass kicked.)
DEE: I am very scared all of a sudden.
ICE: All the fucking drink is gone and I am barely even drunk.
Buck Fucker: Maybe it is all those other drugs you have been doing? Maybe that shit ruined your tolerance.
ICE: It is not like I have done that much other shit.
PJ: I don’t know ICE, look at all those cleaned out baggies under your chair.
(Just as PJ mutters those truthful words a local cop walks by their table. PJ’s words make the officer look down at the pile of obvious plastic drug bags. He takes a moment to examine the situation before he looks up at ICE with a stern face. Dee worries about trouble from John Law just like you viewers at home are expecting when the officer finally speaks.)
Officer: Good Luck at Payback ICE Man; beat the crap out of Joe, that guy just annoys me for some reason.
(The cop causally moves along and out of the bar as the Drunk Money guys find their original topic.)
DEE: Maybe you need to take a break from drinking and drugs ICE.
ICE: A break from drinking and drugs? That is the stupidest thing I heard since I heard that Seth is giving Joe another chance at me and MY title.
Buck Fucker: It might make you be able to get drunker and higher faster next time.
ICE: Are you saying a week devoted to building up my tolerance?
PJ: That sounds boring....you should do a week of roller coasters, or sky diving or watching old Packer highlight films, something that is really exciting.
ICE: But I remember I am preparing for Steeltoe Joe this week...not a Bobby, not a DVS, not even a Jayson...I am facing Steeltoe “ZZZ” Joe, the man’s whose name is even boring. I mean named after a boot, something that walks through shit and gets thrown away once the first whole is formed.
DEE: No offense, but aren’t you named after a beer?
ICE: You mean beer, God’s Greatest gift according to Benjamin Franklin?
DEE: Good point ICE.
ICE: Also Dee, Shut the Fuck Up.
PJ: Yeah Dee, shut up and get me another beer!!!
DEE: PJ, didn’t you just hear what the bartender said about them being out of liquor?
PJ: Honestly I only listen when ICE speaks...for that is easy and gives me time to enjoy those colorful shapes over in that corner.
Buck Fucker: Wait, are you talking about the TV?
PJ: Yes, now where is my fresh beer!?!!
ICE: PJ....
PJ: Yes?
ICE: Shut the fuck up as well.
PJ: You got it dude.
ICE: But I think we are onto something here...to get ready for Joe, his usual bible thumping ways, his old school people’s division like moves, his melting under the big spotlight style...there is only one true way. To get ready for the ruin of the WCF, I must ruin my own life...or at least my mornings.
DEE: What are you talking about?
ICE: I vow to stay fucking sober each morning and not touch a drink until the universal drinking hour each day...one in the afternoon.
Buck Fucker: Sorry to fuck up your plan, but I think the actually universal drinking hour is more like at least five at night.
ICE: Really? Fuck people are boring....fine then in the spirit of the Pathetic Pastor, the God of No Fun...and Wins...I will stay sober and not drink each of the next seven days until 5 PM. Now gentlemen let this week of shitty sobriety begin with a toast.
Bartender: Uh, ICE man.
ICE: Right, we are out of booze...fine, then the experiment is officially on. Now who wants to go back to my place and make margaritas themed with Steeltoe insults?
(Everyone around the table shoots ICE a look.)
ICE: Oh fuck yeah, the not drinking thing.
(Beckman and his Drunk Money crew head out of the bar as the employees left behind begin to close up during the early morning hours...
SUNDAY
5:55pm
Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE lifts up, the feeling of being drunk helping dress him in a familiar skin for the first time today. He looks around his cabin much like a normal man might after a crazy night of drinking, but when it comes to ICE and this moment, things are the opposite. For what a normal drunk might describe as blacked out moments due to too much drink ICE is currently experiencing in reverse, meaning those moments of sobriety earlier in his day are now blacked out or forgotten moments to the Champion. ICE runs his fingers through his hair a few times as he sees a few odd things around his Foam Lake cabin, including the most odd thing...his fat friend PJ.)
ICE: What the hell happened this morning?
PJ: What do you mean, what happened?...You were here for it all., ICE man.
ICE: I might have been here...meaning my body was...but my mind...my SOUL wasn’t.
PJ: So you don’t remember what you did today?
ICE: Not a fucking thing.
PJ: Holy crap...holy crap.
(Dee comes whistling an upbeat song as he walks into the cabin’s main room.)
DEE: By the way ICE man, I was really impressed with your actions today.
PJ: Um....uh...Dee...maybe we shouldn’t say anything-
DEE: No, no, no PJ...ICE was a super cool dude today and he deserves all the praise I want to give him.
PJ: He doesn’t remember a thing from today, while he was Sober.
DEE:.....not a thing?
(ICE stands talk, cracks his neck and looks down at the skinny little man, feeling the booze and the need for some answers as he looks around the room to see his couch piled high with gift baskets, a litter of sickly looking flock of ducklings in a cage and a giant blown up picture of ICE smiling with his arm around Oprah.)
ICE: What the fuck did Sober me do, Dee?
DEE: Well, you said something about being the World Champ who actually gives back. So you gave a lot of your World Championship reign winnings to a bunch of different charities.
ICE: Did you remind this Sober me that fighting Joe is enough Charity for a week?
PJ: No, we didn’t ICE man, but we did remind him, I mean you that you hate Charity.
ICE: And what did Sober me say to that?
DEE: Not exactly sure, but it was something like...Snucker-doodles?
ICE: Fuck me...like really...Fuck Sober ME!
PJ: If you feel any better, at least Oprah was really nice. In fact she is sending me to a camp next summer; some place that helped her trim down.
DEE: And she gave me advice about my writing.
PJ: You mean how she told you not to write anymore?
DEE: I am talking that as constructive criticism Oprah’s way of challenging me as a writer.
PJ: I don’t know, she did yell it like twice...remember the second time was at the Sushi bar.
DEE: ICE you really don’t remember any of this?...It was just a few hours ago.
ICE: Not a fucking thing...fucking sobriety. Well that is the end of this fucking experiment; I am not going through with this all week.
PJ: But what about Your World Title?
ICE: What the shit are you talking about?
PJ: You said, fighting Steeltoe is Boring and You needed to train for that...you need to get ready with your mind, body and sole, right?...Although I never understood what the bottom of your foot had to with it.
DEE: Not that kind of sole PJ.
PJ: Oh wait, I get it...cause ICE kicks and stomps with the “sole” of his boot.
ICE: PJ, shut up. Also, fuck you...you are right. I must stick with this Sober me during the day thing...but it isn’t daytime anymore.
(ICE heads back to the table where there is a few empty beer cans and grabs a fresh one as he goes on piecing his sober morning into place.)
ICE: Now tell me the fucking bullet points, which fucking charities exactly did I waste my money on?
DEE: Well as you can see we did get a lot of gift baskets as thank yous, and they come with all sorts of treats and candies and soaps.
PJ: Which reminds me, make sure you double check before you eat anything; I am still coughing up bubbles.
ICE: What fucking charities?!!!
DEE: Did I mention how nice and friendly Sober you is?
PJ: And he doesn’t yell, but he does hug.
ICE: Just fucking tell me which fucking charities!!!!
DEE: Well there was the Boy Scouts of America...
ICE: Great I am helping a bunch of nerds.
DEE: And the Make a Wish Foundation...
ICE: And some sick nerds.
DEE: And finally The Hooters Society of America.
ICE: Well, fuck, at least Sober me like tits.
DEE: They actually help out endangered owls.
PJ: Don’t worry ICE man; I thought they helped boobs at first too.
ICE: PJ you get confused more often than the WCF Universe wonders why anybody would take managerial advice from Eric Price.
PJ: I don’t get that insult.
ICE: Exactly, now what the fuck about the baby ducks in the corner?
DEE: They were orphaned by their mother and you agreed to take them in and feed them...every 15 minutes...with a bottle dropper...full of pre-chewed food...that is chewed up first...by...you.
ICE: Oh fuck that. How did that come about?
PJ: You called every wildlife rescue center around until you found the toughest case. You said, that tough guys like you might be strong on the outside but are truly soft on the inside.
ICE: Get your story straight for once PJ. Tell him what I actually fucking said Dee.
DEE: Actually that is pretty much exactly right, although you added some stuff about how Steve truly loves his girls and ZMAC secretly has a heart of gold I don’t feel comfortable repeating right now.
ICE: And finally, what is with the Oprah thing? How much did I give that fucking woman beast?
PJ: I think the better question is, what did she give us....and honestly, the answer is My World.
ICE: Are you fucking crying PJ!!? That’s a Dee’s fucking thing to do!!
PJ: Sober ICE said crying is a manly thing to do!!! And so did Oprah!!!
ICE: Fuck me, I need to get drunk, really drunk, like so fucking drunk I forget who Steeltoe Joe is and right some of these many wrongs of caused by the disease of sobriety. But before I do, tell me how much exactly I wasted on charities today?
DEE: Something like $100,000.
ICE: Something like...something FUCKING like...alright, alright, time to drink!!
DEE: But remember, if you want to stay true to your training this week you have to stop drinking by midnight in order to be sober tomorrow.
ICE: Fine...that is more than enough time to get wasted and fuck up this world I tried to better today.
PJ: Look at the bright side ICE-
ICE: Fuck You PJ!!!
(ICE storms out of the cabin, grabbing his World Title and a big bottle of Vodka before he heads into the night like a wild animal ready to get drunk on the hunt.
PJ: I already miss Sober ICE.
DEE: Don’t worry PJ, he is just a sleep away.
(DEE and PJ head over to the cage of ducklings knowing that without speaking a word amongst each other that they are their responsibilities now...
MONDAY
5:49pm
Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE Beckman blinks himself into a world of hazy delight as the alcohol that is new to his system begins to play with his liver like jazz musician who loves heroin. As he looks around the room he is quick to recognize the building he is in as the Foam Lake VFW. He stands up, his legs finally feeling wobbly and the room just starting to spin with questions. And he finds the key to answering those questions smiling back at him like a good agent and older brother should. John winks at he can tell his drunk champion is back in his normal mindset.)
John: Am I speaking with Drunk Natural ICE then at this point?
(ICE looks around at the half empty bottle of Wild Turkey in front of him with a sigh and a smile.)
ICE: Yes...yes you fucking are...now your turn to answer some questions.
(But before John Beckman can respond a crowd of people coming flowing through the front door, all of them dressed in high class fashion. Women coming in with daring cool dresses and men come in with super sleek suits. They enter the space like a group of hungry bovines seeking food, drink and a comfortable place in which to visit. ICE Beckman pounds down a few more drinks of Wild Turkey as the scene develops in front of his soon to be double- vision eyes.)
ICE: What the fuck is going on?
John: Well Sober ICE was not super-duper okay with your reaction to all your finical giving to charities.
ICE: How fucking so?
John: Well to begin he was not too pleased about the message drunk you left on Oprah’s personal voicemail number.
ICE: Hahaha...what did I say?
John: Well...(John pulls his smart phone out and is quick to play the now famous voicemail message that Drunk ICE left on Oprah’s messages)...Listen for yourself...
(ICE listens with a growing smile.)
“Hey Oprah...aka Still FAT Oprah...how about your Selma movie? Good job teaching America about something that is over 50 years old...which reminds me...Steeltoe is an Over Told Story as well...but fuck that shit, for what really matter is this...I am not only taking my money back from your loser charity for the weak, but I am making my own...so HA!...I am better then you in every way now!!! Also Ellen is way better than you ever were...I bet...not that I have ever seen either of your shows...also...FUCK JOE!!”
(John stops the recording on his phone as ICE’s voice can still be heard speaking about how much he hates many things in the background.)
John: And as I was saying, Sober You fought back a little...well, more like a lot.
ICE: What did he-...I do now?
John: Well since you got your money back as a drunk last night and also pissed off Oprah the Sober You started this...a brand new charity.
(Drunk ICE Beckman wants to ask more but is interrupted by a rich old fellow wrapped in the shiny wrapping of expensive tuxedo.)
Rich Old Fart: Good evening Mr. Beckman.
ICE:......
John: Natural, I think he is talking to you.
ICE: Really, the only people who call me Mr. Beckman is...well...nobody.
Rich Old Fart: Well either way, I would like to thank you very much for starting this Charity.
(ICE shoots a glance at John faster than he does the Cocktailed Crossface.)
ICE: What did I do?
Rich Old Fart: Well Mr. Beckman, you started your very own charity, a beacon of true light in this world full of hate...the one you named...Societies Treasures Enormously Energized Lovingly To Overall Empathy.
ICE: Wait, you mean....the S.T.E.E.L.T.O.E.?
John: You said while he may be just a wrestling opponent, your respect for him deserves true recognition.
Rich Old Fart: Yes, you are a true inspirational speaker, Mr. Beckman.
ICE: Fuck OFF old man, don’t make me pretend you are Steeltoe.
Rich Old Fart: I don’t understand...are you saying I am worthy of charity?
ICE: I am saying FUCK OFF!!!
John: Artists can be...interesting, but their heart is always in the right place, now if you would give us a moment please.
(The Rich Old Fart heads off back to the masses of people forming as the Beckman brothers regain their original conversation.)
ICE: Tell me right fucking now, what sort of shit did Sober Me start now?
John: I guess the best way to put it is...your trying to help...everyone.
ICE: And by everyone you mean?
(But before ICE gets a verbal answer he is given a visual one as a whole cast of characters in needs comes walking into the VFW hall. The variety of people in need include: a group creepy old white man pastors, a faction of freaky tall ex-high school basketball stars, a caravan of unemployed bible pushers and finally just a parade of sad beaten down individuals, one right after another. As they enter they each take a moment to thank ICE for his actions of the day.)
Creepy Old Pastor: May God be with you like he is with every child I touch.
ICE: Holy shit get away from me.
Tall Ex-Basket Baller: I might be close to heaven due to my height, but you are the true one closer to heaven’s gate.
ICE: You are a freak for your height, plus those acne scares sure don’t help.
Bible Pusher: Have you ever heard the story of David and Goliath?
ICE: Trust me I will after watching Joe’s promos this week.
Pathetic Man: Can you wipe my ass? For I can’t reach anymore and the shit is backing up.
ICE: No Fucking way...but I can give you some advice, deal with it like STJ does, just shit out of your mouth.
(ICE smiles at his thoughtfulness which has sparked his thought process just enough to see for the most part what is going on right now.)
ICE: Me facing Steeltoe Joe at Payback may be the ultimate charity, hence this shit right here is too much.
John: What are you saying, Natural?
ICE: Fuck this giving back shit, fuck giving back at all, I will prove to the world that STJ is pathetic, is worthless, is never going to be good enough...I am here to announce....STEELTOE SUCKS!!!
(ICE’s scream echoes throughout the hall bringing even the music to silence, along with the cast of one millionaire’s attention in attendance for the fancy event.)
Rich Old Fart: Dear Mr. Beckman, what are you saying exactly?
ICE: Fuck STEELTOE, fuck all of you and Fuck Me...now I have till midnight to drink...now Get the Fuck Out of My Way!! I HAVE SOME DRINKING And Thinking, But mostly DRINKING TO DO!!!
(ICE storms out of the room, leaving the posh crowd looking for answers from Mr. Money Bags himself, John Beckman.)
John: The WCF World Champion Everybody!!!
(Rich crickets mold the mode of awkward silence that John has been left in.)
John: So, anyways, who is ready with their check books...I mean this is for a good cause after all.
(The rich folk crowd remembers their silk laced beds within their giant bedrooms inside their mansion sized homes and that is all it takes to trigger their rich person guilt as they all begin to still pull out their check books in order to help out the S.T.E.E.L.T.O.E. charity...
TUESDAY
5:42pm
Outskirts of Foam Lake, Wisconsin
...ICE finds himself embracing DEE, PJ and Buck Fucker in what instantly becomes an unwelcomed hug as the storm of the drink begins to rain over his brain with an intoxicating downfall. ICE pushes back against the hugging men probably as instantly as he embraced it just moments before his brain crossed over to drunken town.)
ICE: What the hell is going on here?
DEE: I figured that third round of drinks would put him over the edge.
PJ: Well there goes the hugs, the nice words and probably all this.
Buck Fucker: No buck fucking way; ICE gave us this, he ain’t taking it away, he ain’t no Joe Blow Zebra Fuck, like that STJ flunky.
DEE: Well, you see Buck, ICE has being doing this Sober thing-
ICE: Oh Fuck No...You explain to me first exactly why I am sitting in this just sold big ass home.
Buck Fucker: Oh when you both said that it is Sober ICE vs. Drunk ICE, this is what you mean....now I get it.
PJ: Can we all just forget which ICE crap already? I mean we have a game room now!! Now who wants to challenge me at table top bubble hockey? I call being the U.S.S.R. side!!
ICE: What the fuck did Sober Me do now?
Buck Fucker: Hey Champ, don’t you remember, you bought Dee, PJ and Me this awesome fucking house right here in Foam Lake??
ICE: Holy fucking shit, I did not.
DEE: I told you Buck, we needed to ease him into this.
Buck Fucker: Fuck a rabbit in its butt, I ain’t chasing around the carrot like that, ICE said since his charity is no more that he would help his true friends this afternoon and the end result is this fucking awesome house on the lake.
ICE: The one that is twice as big as my fucking cabin.
PJ: Technically, it is at least three times as big as your cabin ICE; that is what Tammy our real-estate lady told me.
(ICE slumps down in a nearby chair and finds the rest of the bottle of wine with ease; by the time anyone breathes out again the bottle is empty and ICE is allowing his true state of sloshed reality to frame this picture of the unknown story.)
ICE: And why did Sober Me do this exactly?
PJ: Because we are besties...blood bothers...soul sons...the true Kings of your world.
DEE: Sober You said Drunk You might not understand charity for others, but he would appreciate it when given to friends.
ICE: But I hate you all.
DEE: I tried to tell him that, bug he hugged me and bought me a strawberry kiwi smoothie.
(ICE rips the cork of the nice bottle open with his jaws before pounding down the fermented grape juice.)
Buck: Don’t worry Champ; we are going to throw a party in your name as soon as we settle in.
PJ: We sure are, in fact I am just about to head off in my new truck to the dollar store in get decorations...now tell me ICE man, what party theme do you prefer? Disney’s Frozen or random stuff from the office supply aisle?
ICE: God damnit PJ!!!
(Beckman takes another group of mighty chugs from the bottle of wine before cleaning his beard his Vapor Kings sweatshirt sleeve.)
ICE: You know I am a fucking Belle from Beauty in the Beast guy!!!
Buck Fucker: Haha...I am a Snow White guy!
PJ: I loved the Aladdin chick. She was very...mexcaian.
DEE: She was Abriain.
PJ: More like she was a Abrain me...in bed...with her boobs.
(The sound of an empty hits the table.)
Buck Fucker: I don’t know, those Middle Eastern chicks get sand stuck in their downstairs bushes I hear from my many military buds.
DEE: Can I make a new house rule, No Vagina Talk at the Dinner Table Please.
PJ: I agree, no China talk or North Korean talk either.
(A waft of grape scented burp hangs in the air as another empty bottle hits the table.)
Buck Fucker: Also if I am doing a chick, I get the kitchen.
DEE: Kitchen? Just use your bedroom!
Buck Fucker: I like to eat while doing it, now agree to that or move out.
PJ: Um, does anyone else see how red ICE’s face is getting?
(Another bottle is drained as Dee and Buck continue their conversation.)
DEE: All I am is saying is, no one can do it In my breakfast nook.
Buck Fucker: And all I’m saying is I Fuck who I want, where I want, when I want.
DEE: I suppose the deer could confirm that.
Buck Fucker: Maybe He COULD!!!
(ICE slams an empty wine bottle down so hard it explodes on the table of the house his sober stupid self bought just hours ago...and then he smiles.)
ICE: I am Drunk.
PJ: Bye-bye Tickle Fight Tuesday.
(The entire Drunk Money crew looks at ICE, as he slurs his speech like a pro.)
ICE: Which means I have til’ midnight to undo Sober Me’s work.
DEE: What does that exactly mean?
ICE: You want this home to truly be yours? Well then...time to fight for it...just like Steeltoe will have to at Payback...by hoping not to embarrass yourself while fighting for the thing you want most in this world.
Buck Fucker: Fine dude, the fight is on. Should we get out the Super Nintendo, I think I have Mario Kart.
ICE: I mean we fight we our fists, and whatever else is around...like in the name of fun...(thinks of STJ)...and whatever pisses you off for like being the bad kind of weed.
DEE: Fine, I will fight, but first can I say truly ICE, that was a really good point you just made about this fight and STJ versus You at Payback?
ICE: Dee, for that bullshit sucking up attempt, I am going to put your head through the wall first.
PJ: And then we can kick him in the butt with ease!
Buck Fucker: Damnit PJ, it is us three against ICE!!!
PJ: But I would never fight ICE Man!!!
Buck Fucker: Put it this way, if ICE wins and destroys this house, you have to move back in with Dee and his mom.
PJ: Oh man, but I already scored with his mom and now she is all needy, I can’t go back there.
ICE: Alright, FICHT TIME!!
DEE: Hold on, Time Out, PJ and I need to-
(ICE grabs Dee by the heads and throws him like a dart at the wall. As Dee crumbles to the floor Buck runs at ICE with PJ coming from the other side like storming rhino. ICE is quick to grab one of the empty wine bottles and shatter it against the table in order to make a stabbing weapon. It freezes PJ and Buck which causes ICE to smile.)
ICE: What does the joker say...everything burns...I wonder if he meant Holy Bullshit Flames as well...either way I bet this house dose...
(ICE ducks out of the room like a madman on a drunken rampage ready to prove to the world that the only thing that matters is that moment, whether it be a bad idea or a great one, thinking is the only enemy of truly living in the moment...
WEDNESDAY
5:38pm
Outskirts of Foam Lake County
...ICE tastes dirt. But it has a nice hint of whiskey within the grains of filth. He looks up to see a dark blue cover wrapping the day up like it’s a present for tomorrow as he feels alive in his three ring circus of a brain. But not all systems that make the Beckman the Champion are a go as he tries to stand up.)
ICE: Oh fuck me.
(ICE crumbles to the ground, clutching his trembling thighs. He rolls onto his back and feels something familiar touch his arm. He reaches over find his best friend, in all her sexy coolness and warmth companionship....his flask.)
ICE: Come to Daddy.
(ICE goes for a big drink but sadly only finds a drop.)
ICE: Fuck.
(ICE lays his head down on the road, for some reason he is barely drunk, but unable to get up.)
ICE: WHAT IS THIS HELL!!!?
(ICE lays back down on the road as he hears his last ditch effort of frustration echo through-out the pine tree forest. ICE feels his muscles tingling, his feet barking, his fingers aching, his heart beat pacing, his legs twitching and his armpits drenched with sweat and is almost enjoying it like it is a his last hit of a drug before he fades back to sobriety when headlights blind him in the face as the come up the dirt road. The car comes to a screeching halt right in front of the body of ICE Beckman. All the doors of the car fling open at once and ICE hears a worm out old medley of voices.)
PJ: I think this one is not a deer or a passed out hunter.
John: It better be ICE, for that passed out hunter you just mentioned almost shot off my ear when he woke him up.
DEE: Wait, I know that lump of humanity...I used it in my original painting.
Buck Fucker: The one you showed me, that painting you call the “True melting of the ICE”?
DEE: Shhh, ICE might hear you say that.
ICE: Too late...too fucking late.
(ICE may be drained from energy, but his fuel for hate helps him perk up a bit with just the tone of his closest friends and families voices.)
DEE: Hey look, I found ICE, I saved ICE!
ICE: Shut the fuck up DEE.
(ICE lifts his head enough off the ground to see his Drunk Money crew coming at him with a mixture of wobbles and limps. ICE notices that they to seem to be a bit out of commission for the moment. ICE notices PJ’s arm in a sling first, Dee’s head wrapped second and Buck on crutches. Yet John Beckman is the first one to get to him thanks to a lack of injury. But John does not cradle his client, his brother, he just stands over him in order to enjoy the moment.)
John: Well I guess your jog is over then?
ICE: Fucking shit, what did Sober Me do now?
(PJ helps ICE Beckman up to a sitting position while at the same time giving him an open beer which ICE is quick to drink to help off his sobriety as he listens to the mullet man speak.)
Buck Fucker: Never mind that ICE dude; I would rather talk about what Drunk You did last night.
ICE: Something about bringing down the house; like I put Steeltoe is his place once and for all by destroying his very own home.
Buck Fucker: No...you tried to destroy our bitch ass Home!...And Our Drunk Money Crew dude!
ICE: Oh now the drunk memories are all fading back from the haze in my mind. Oh fuck yeah, I fucked up your home...that I bought you...Fuck, please tell me I burnt it down.
Buck Fucker: No, but you broke my bad ass foot.
DEE: And concussed my brain.
PJ: And hurt my feelings...oh, and my arm.
ICE: Well that makes me feel a little better.
DEE: Hey ICE, any interest in becoming buddy truck drivers together? We could ride the highways of America and solve crimes like Magnum P.I.
PJ: Stop asking everyone that DEE, are you sure you are okay?
DEE: As long as John is here with me I am.
John: Okay, time for me and ICE to give you three some privacy.
Buck Fucker: Why the shit do we need privacy?
DEE: Now Buck, I think it would be good for us to talk, really talk, for we are roomies now after all...so, who wants to be in charge of Sunday brunch or more importantly, should I make a chores wheel?
Buck Fucker: What the chicken shit crap?
PJ: A chore wheel? I hate chores, but love wheels. But obviously we do need some time to talk, come on Buck.
DEE: Hey guys, if the moon really is cheese, does that mean as people from Wisconsin we owe it.
PJ: Are you sure your head feels okay Dee?
(John Beckman has already given his client a fresh flask of whiskey while in order to help Your Champion to his feet, but they have watched in awe the strange dynamic play out in front of them. As the three walk away for this privacy John and ICE allow the cold wind to brace them back into Beckman form.)
ICE: Fuck, all this tolerance I have built by taking the last few daytimes off from drinking, I can’t even remember last night.
John: Well you did finish off a case of beer and a gallon of moonshine...wait, does that mean you don’t exactly remember what you did last night? What you did your buddies and that new house you bought them?
ICE: Pieces of images, but like Steeltoe in the wrestling ring I don’t have the total package.
John: So you don’t remember trying to burn down their garage and when PJ tried to put it with the hose you pushed him into a patch of ice which caused him to hurt his arm.
ICE: No, but if fucking sounds funny.
John: Imagine what it would look like to see the Pillsbury dough man slip on a pad of butter.
ICE: So what about Buck and his hurt foot?
John: He got that falling off the roof while chasing you after you start pulling rooking tiles off their house. And Dee, well Dee had a brick fall on his head after you took a sledgehammer to their chimney, and from the sound of him, he is not doing good.
ICE: But was it funny to watch happen?
John: Never been a big fan of the three stooges, but it seemed like a scene right from that show.
ICE: Good shit...good shit...now onto the bad news...what the fuck did Sober Me do to me today, I feel like crap and not in the good way.
John: Well Sober You decided that you have given enough to others this week and that it was time for you to do something good for you.
ICE: Wait, my wobbly legs, my sweaty brow...my jog? Fuck no.
John: You got it, Sober You made you go on a health kick.
ICE: Fucking shit, you mean eating right, working out, that sort of shit.
John: He had you doing Yoga.
ICE: You mean those aren’t log underwear under my sweatpants, but tights?
John: Electric bright tights...that you have to borrow from Dee.
ICE: You mean my junk is sweating...in Dee’s tights?
John: Well you borrowed them from Dee, but he actually got them from...
ICE: Don’t say it!
John:...his mom...sorry man.
(John takes a few moments before he dares look back at ICE, but by the time he does ICE is chugging the flask like he is stranded on desert island and he just found water for the first time.)
ICE: This is getting to be too fucking much...I hate this shit...but Father Roman would be proud of the rage boiling inside...the images of Steeltoe bleeding that are over taking my eyes right now.
John: But if it makes you feel any better you are winning.
ICE: I always win against Joe, check the record books. I mean that fucking guy’s only comeback to that is bring up other names, for when it comes to him against me, he knows his shit name is fucking tainted.
John: I wasn’t talking about Steeltoe Joe, I was talking about Sober You...from what I saw today, Sober You has a little bit less bounce in his step, a lot less hugging and when Dee asked him for a ride to the ER he snapped at him.
ICE: You can take the drink out of the drunk.
John: But you can’t take the drunk out of the man.
ICE: Well now that is the boost of energy I needed. Time to ruin any work Sober Me did today, now the nearest buffet from here in the Strip Club just off the interstate, but before we head there...I need to call my guy Eddie. Let’s see how much Sober Me can get down when he is busy shitting out cheap taco meat while coming down off the trip of a life time. Now time to take back the Night One Step At a Time!!
(ICE takes a step away from John’s support and immediately his weaken legs give way and he collapses back down to the ground. John rolls his eyes before helping his client and younger brother back up.)
John: Fuck, how the crap did Catsy deal with you?
ICE: He has a crazy bad milk addiction; that good shit gets him through anything.
John: And how the hell are you a professional athlete? You can barely survive one day of working out?
ICE: Fighting in the ring is a completely different animal, the adrenaline I find in the ring never lets me down...not that you would get that brother, for honestly you sucked as a wrestler.
(John drops ICE back on the ground, which doesn’t stop ICE from laughing at his insult. His laugh turns into a cackle as the rhythm of the liquor slip-slides down his blood stream and ICE begins to picture his night of gluttony to come...
THURSDAY
5:34pm
Sunrise, Florida
...ICE Beckman slinks down farther on very uncomfortable couch which causes his feet to knock over a nearly empty 40 oz. bottle of malt liquor onto the concrete floor. ICE feels the warming feeling of beer hops and an extremely high alcohol content doing the waltz across his taste buds like two lovers embracing before they fuck like animals later that night. And that makes ICE Beckman smile.)
ICE: Where the fuck am I now?
(ICE asks out loud hoping for someone to answer him, but finds no such luck. But the booze begins to open his eyes a bit and he looks around to see himself in some sort of old wrestling gym. Banners with tattered edges of past wrestling stars hang on the walls, pre-war like exercise equipment is set up in one corner and in the opposite is the couch that ICE is sitting on surrounded by a few other furniture items themed with the idea of relaxation. The star of the gym is sitting in the middle of the gym, a big old dusty wrestling ring. ICE finds the knocked over bottle and begins to drain what is left when a familiar, but not instantly recognizable voice is heard boasting as someone new walks into the room. ICE stops the voice mid-sentence as his brain fires just right to remind your World Champion who exactly that is speaking to him.)
ICE: Manly Gaga...the jobber from the house show last week...is that fucking you?
Manly Gaga: Well, that was my name, last week, when you almost ended my career in the ring, but that was last week and besides you already begged my apology earlier today...don’t you remember that?
ICE: Oh fuck Sober Me.
Manly Gaga: I don’t understand, are you talking about how you had to go to the bathroom a lot today? I mean don’t you remember how much you did for me today?
ICE: Fuck, please refresh my mind.
Manly Gaga: Is this some sort of test or something?
ICE: FUCKING SHIT...just tell me!!!
Manly Gaga: Well, um, where to start...well first you pulled me out of my mom’s basement, you said you were sorry for hurting me so bad, something about how that was just the drunk you.
ICE: Fucking shit, did I hug you while doing this?
Manly Gaga: Well, yeah, a few times. And then you said you were going to make right what you had wronged me and you were going to help my career as a wrestler get started.
ICE: Fuck, tell me I fucking didn’t.
Manly Gaga: So, should I stop telling the story?
ICE: Just keep fucking going.
Manly Gaga: Why are you swearing so much all of a sudden?
ICE: Because I have a Sobriety Hangover the size of the World, I have a moron named Steeltoe Joe who have I buried more than a gravedigger does dead people in a month and now I am finding out that I have wasted my day helping a...a...fuck, I can’t even say the word!!
Manly Gaga: A future World Champion?
ICE: A future World WHAT?!!? Fuck, I can say it now...I spent the whole day helping YOU...A FUCKING JOBBER!!! Oh shit, if Buddy hears about this, if ZMAC does, fuck I will never live it down.
Manly Gaga: So you are having second thoughts about The ICE Avenger.
ICE: Who the fuck is the ICE Avenger?
Manly Gaga: Me...and again when did you start cursing so much?
ICE: Fucking birth I would guess, now back to this fucking ICE Avenger idea.
Manly Gaga: It was your idea; you said I could rise to the top even faster if I rode your coattails.
ICE: And inform me more about this brilliant idea of mine.
Manly Gaga: You said that I would be the True Hero is the ICE AGE, in that every place that you drank and did drugs and other awful things, I would be the counter force, the force of true good, a hero for the people, maybe even someone who could spread the love. In fact you helped me rename my finishing move from the Mad Romance to the Cuddle Crossface.
(ICE doesn’t say anything, only responds with a very deep, very heavy sigh.)
Manly Gaga: I mean we talked all day about hard work, and giving it our all and how I could one day be a big as you...a true WCF Superstar...what has changed?...Are you drunk?
ICE: Not enough.
Manly Gaga: Here, want another 40 then?
ICE: Yes...yes I fucking do.
(ICE snaps the over-sized bottle from the jobber known as Manly Gaga like a wounded animal being offered a piece of fresh meat.)
Manly Gaga: So, my mom just called she said she has finished my ICE Avenger suit...she said the symbol you designed was pretty tough, but she thinks she was able to make it look like I was saluting the heavens. She also said she was proud to hear that such a good man was helping me.
(Something deep down inside of ICE is creeping up, from the fiery hell parts of his soul. The place where hate feasters and brews inside something truly bad and evil. And this, dark force, nameless to those of you who don’t have a temper, whatever it is it begins to tickle ICE’s voice box like a blind man who knows how to play the piano. It doesn’t know what the keys look like; but it knows how to play the tune.)
ICE: Tell me, Manly Avenger...Gaga Freak Boy...Whoever the Fuck you are...are you a religious jobber?
Manly Gaga: Well, you told me earlier that jobber is only a word created by those who fear the undercard.
ICE: Just tell me, are you a religious man?
Manly Gaga: Well, my mom always said a good boy, I mean man, loves his mother, hides behind no outside influence...(takes a leering look at ICE chugging the 40 ounces of malt liquor)... and yes, she taught me to trust in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirits.
(ICE smiles, but not a happy smile, not a smile fueled with confidence, or a grin flamed by evil, but a smile that awakes his fists, a smile that sounds the wake up call to his boots and like an alarm sounds awake his true spirit...one that is born from hate.)
ICE: Tell me...do you cry like a bitch sometimes?
Manly Gaga: Well...maybe...sometimes.
(ICE stands, finishing the second bottle of malt liquor before letting it fall and shatter on the floor. But the whole time ICE keeps his eyes staring at the jobber.)
ICE: Tell me...do you bleed, do you break, do you lose....oh wait, I know that answer...don’t I?
(ICE looks at his fingers, he flexes them into fists as he lets them tell him a tale of a painful past. He sees them gaining strength as they ball themselves into one. He feels the hate flow from his heart to his ability to act while the words of Roman echo through-out his mind. Like a crazy drunk ICE begins to act like a crazy drunk and that is why his smile grows.)
Manly Gaga: What is wrong...what is going on with you ICE?
(Manly Gaga stands up and begins to back pedal at YOUR World Champion begins to slowly walk towards him, with his frozen heart spewing hate and his mouth promoting such thoughts.)
ICE: You know what dude, man...boy...you have begun to remind me of someone I hate.
Manly Gaga: Is it your friend, PJ, I mean he is a fat fool, right?
ICE: No, PJ is fun to hang out with, same with Dee and Buck Fucker...hell even John knows how to truly fuck around with life...so I ask you fucking again, DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD!!! A FUCKING HIGHER POWER or WHAT?!!!
Manly Gaga: I...I....um...uh...can I quickly call my mom, please?
ICE: Nope, but let’s go back to playing the game? WHO DO YOU REMIND ME OF???!!!
Manly Gaga: Um...Steel...toe...Joe?
(ICE smiles.)
ICE: Ding-Ding...you got the answer right....yet so very wrong...all at the same time.
Manly Gaga: Is this the end of the ICE Avenger?
ICE: Hopefully.
Manly Gaga: Oh god.
ICE: Sorry, that fucker doesn’t answer Joe’s pleas in the ring so he for sure isn’t answering yours right fucking now.
(Beckman grabs the jobber and begins to tenderize the fresh meat by slamming his head into the ground, the scooping him up and throwing his into the free weights and as the jobber blood flows, ICE yanks him up and rolls him into the ring. ICE is quick to follow him in and stand over him like a wolf ready to sink his teeth into his fresh kill...
FRIDAY
5:29pm
Miami, Florida
...ICE feels a sea of empty plastic shot glasses as he arm slides around the bar top like a snake does through the underbrush of a jungle, looking for its next victim in which to drain clean. But ICE stops before he finds his next drink, for the world he remembered has left him with a lot of questions and plenty of fuzzy sober answers. But this time his crew is ready and around with answers.)
ICE: What the fuck is going on now?
DEE: Hey, look drunk ICE is here?!
Buck Fucker: Sober Him will be happy, I suppose.
PJ: Sober Him has pretty much given up, am I right?
DEE: I told know he put this together, didn’t he?
Buck Fucker: That Sober Bitch...I mean Sober ICE...was sad and not talking much, but he did do this.
ICE: And what the Fuck is this?
(ICE looks around to see a bunch of pimple faced virgins and their moms, gathered in a banquet room of the Miami Hilton hotel. As ICE scours the large room he sees nerds, freaks and bible bouncers of all kinds before he finally sees a banner that truly pisses him off.)
ICE: What the shit is that banner....”Welcome Steeltoe Faithful: Your time is coming soon”?
PJ: Are you mad we didn’t spelling coming with a u?
Buck: I told you, Buck Fucker and Bobby the C would have.
DEE: You both have also lost to ICE then.
ICE: Time to teach Sober Me a true lesson.
Buck: You nearly burned down our house...twice...for I didn’t find the fire you started in the basement until we got back from finding you after your shit crack jog.
PJ: Also, you put that jobber he tried to help in insensitive care yesterday. He can only mumble two phrases now, something about” keep ICE away from me” and “where is my mommy?”, it is funny ass shit alright.
DEE: Oh, and you never got back to me about becoming Truck Driver Detectives.
(Agent John Beckman comes walking up to the crew, knowing his client, brother and World Champion needs a little education.)
John: Well Natural, here is Sober You lasts hurray...a big group of Steeltoe Joe fans, that you have-
ICE: No Fucking No, I don’t give a shit what I tried to do earlier.
John: Good point, but I at least want you to know...Sober You gave this a half assed effort. Meaning yeah he gathered this loser STJ fans, but honestly he couldn’t do much more.
PJ: Yeah, and he didn’t even hug me once.
ICE: Are you saying what I think you saying?
John: Drunk ICE is winning.
DEE: Oh darn...he might be right...but oh darn...also what about all these STJ fans, we promised them a big time speech.
Buck Fucker: And I think they are about to get a fucking doggie doddle one...right about now.
(ICE Beckman, with a few glasses of whiskey in his no longer trembling hands, steps to the microphone that is attached to the podium for the hotel conference hall. He grasps the edges of the wood and feels the booze help seek out the thoughts that matter in his sea of a mind. And with an evil grin, his father’s grin, ICE shoots the crowd with his words.)
ICE: Steeltoe Joe is not worthy of being World Champion. He may have hung around here a while but his career is more laced with big time losses than it is big time wins. He has blanketed himself with a cloud of God and Friends to help him get through the many...many bad times. But he and I both need to get ready for the future. And that is where I stand right now, waiting for him to catch up. Like I am the Hare and he the tortoise, but see that fable is not a story to me, but a lesson and that is why I have not bothered with a nap this week, rather I have pricked myself awake. I took what I hate and I grew with the fear, the anger, the want, in order to become a better wrestler.
(ICE begins to use powerful words to dash the spirits of those in attendance...and their moms.)
ICE: Steeltoe Joe couldn’t beat Bobby Cairo last week could he...but that is not surprise...but he couldn’t even hang with Bobby C, could he? He wasn’t even good enough to compete with the man I beat. Yet he is going to be standing across from me at Payback. Your support for him in this moment is admirable, but undeserving. For here is a man, only willing to work hard when something that matters is on the line, for he is not only a loser, a beggar drowning in quick sand, but he is the shit that God hates. A false, hoping to cheat death with the least amount of effort, a villain in the night; hell people I am telling you that this wrestler, this failure, is not the God you want him to be, or even the man you want to praise, but a devil, who relies of easy outs and blessed sins of Seth in order to get what he does not deserve!!!
(The crowd of STJ super fans call out with cheers and support for their champion of the people.)
ICE: I hear you praises for the man and our questions of why I have changed and I want you to know I hear them, but not those or crying for vengeance, crying for pain against me...but those are cries of Hate. Pure and simple, a God given American right, HATE!! Hell, HATE is a God Given WORLD Right.
(ICE taps his World Title for internal comfort while the once crowded room of cheers have quieted in order to hear ICE speak; for while they are supporters of Joe, they love wrestling more than anything. )
ICE: I am telling you people...I HATE Steeltoe Joe. And I am fine if you hate me for just saying that. Fuck I might just hate you back. But that is not only because I know how to be human. For people like Steeltoe might seem nice and, what are his words Holy? Unwavering? Tough as nails? Sound like a reason he loses, an excuse as to why and his bullshit for afterwards. Steeltoe really needs to start looking into the mirror, for his gimmick might come easy be his wrestling doesn’t. He likes to lean towards the Bible out of the ring, but he sure can’t find heavenly help within it. Hence the Steel Holy Joe Godfucker thing is over and the ICE AGE is going to freeze it out in Florida this week. For how many times can you lose in the spotlight and still are able to talk like you belong there?
(A silent crowd responses with eyes down and folded hands.)
ICE: So the past is the past, time to talk future...the chapter of the ICE AGE. The one about a wrinkled old giant who shriveled up like a grape in the cold blue sun and when that now big fat raisin tries to rise again one day people will only remember it as a shitty pruned loser forever never worth tasting again. In other words, in more simple words, Steeltoe’s flock is a dying faith, soon Joe will nothing at all. A man trapped in a glass ceiling box, who was given chance after chance to climb up to the next level but could never break through. And this room will whimper at his feet, unless...unless you don’t, unless you learn. And come into the cold, the frozen ICE AGE and find the warmth of winning. For hell, and I am speaking to the STJ fans in this room, maybe you could say Fuck You Mom, Fuck Steeltoe, Fuck Whatever God you Make me Love and....
(You could hear a pin drop as the whole room is listening.)
ICE: Have Sex with a Girl.
(A mixture of gasps follow ICE’s last statement.)
ICE: But back to the point, the Hate, the fun of it all. Steeltoe is going to fail again, he isn’t going to get his Payback, rather just dig himself further into a hole of defeat. People talk about deflate-gate in the NFL, but when Joe loses again to the biting sting of the ICE AGE he is going to be nothing more than a never was. And that will make him, you and your fucking moms, all just people wasting your fucking time. Now I am going to go out there, drink the shit out that hotel bar, get my hands on whatever I can as far as drugs and have a good fucking night and prove to the world why fucking sobriety is only a myth to any Fucking person who lives. Whether it be the fucking TV, the gym, the drink or the fucking hard ass drugs, or whatever pills you love, or even Steeltoe who must love getting rimmed by the ICE AGE, everyone is fucking hooked on something. So tonight I am going to show why Sober Me is as worthless as trying to get people to pay for a pay per view that involves a man who only had to beat Adam Young to get another title shot. Now time to get FUCKED UP!!!
(ICE begins to storm off the stage to a strange off beat claps from the sea of strange people while their mothers try to stop them. ICE knocks over both nerds and moms as he strangely storms through them on his way out of the room and into a night full of things you have all seen in many of ICE’s past promos...
SATURDAY
5:19pm
Miami, Florida
...ICE Beckman shakes his head and finds himself swirling around a few ice cubes within a small glass as he looks around to find where he is. Things come to him simply, the hint of weed on his clothes, the taste of coke in the back of his throat, the feeling of his vision finding focus after his many different trips. ICE looks over to find his brother, in a hotel suite, just outside the arena for Payback.)
ICE: Shit...this feels...normal...drunk and just right.
John: I bet it does for You Won.
ICE: Steeltoe wised up and threw in the white towel?
John: Not yet, but yet again I am talking about-
ICE: Sober Me.
John: He just sat there today, didn’t do a thing but leave you this note...“You beat me, drink up and now go beat the Holy Hell out of Steeltoe.”
ICE: So, what time to toast to my favorite thing...Drinking.
John: Actually, I only brought the one drink.
ICE: Don’t pull a STJ line John; bullshit lines like that only work for Corey Black and the other WCF Jobbers.
(John pulls out a small bottle of rum as a present for his brother, client and champion’s week long victory over his hateful mission. As ICE enjoys the drink he feels back in his own skin; a feeling he knows will only get stronger when he beats Steeltoe again. Because we all know nothing makes you feel more like yourself then getting back in your old habit; so there the two Beckman watch as the sun slips down past the horizon for another beautiful Florida sunset.)
John: Well Natural, any final thoughts on your big match.
ICE: Considering I’ve become the WCF Pope, considering there are large portions of the week that I don’t remember and considering this moment with nature screaming the perfect metaphor as once again the sun sets of Steeltoe’s hopes...nope I think it is about summed up. Now it is time to get it done in the ring...I am coming Joe, to hurt you, to beat you and keep the ICE AGE alive.
(ICE and John toast the sky as they clink glasses as the promo fades off to black.)
Sober ICE vs Drunk ICE
Static...static...black screen....then something extra pops up.
(Dee is suddenly on your screen like an unwelcomed mother in law house guest.)
DEE: Hey ICE AGE fans, welcome to the second super special Promo Bonus Footage; which is your free gift for making it through the whole promo. Now here is some bonus footage from me and my pals Buck Fucker and PJ discussing the week, our new house and all the other whacky happenings in our lives.
(A single shot from a second class camera turns on showing Dee, PJ and Buck sitting around their kitchen table in the house that Sober ICE bought them earlier in the week.)
Buck Fucker: I am not doing a themed dinner each night of the week.
DEE: Fine, no Greek Wednesdays or Mexican Thursdays.
PJ: Wait, no Mexican Thursdays? Then who is going to do the yard work?
DEE: I think you were confused...and a little racist...bout that one Dee.
Buck Fucker: And as long as we are saying NO to things, I am saying No to that Cage Full of Fucking sick ducks.
PJ: I am not getting rid of Huey, Dewey, Louie and their mother Scrooge McDuck.
DEE: That is a terrible name for the mother duck.
PJ: Fine, I will go back to her original name....Optimus Prime.
Buck Fucker: That is even worse, but that shit don’t matter for we ain’t keeping them, they cry all night long.
DEE: That isn’t the ducks....PJ was watching The Notebook on TV.
Buck Fucker: That fucking noise was you!?
PJ: You know what I might hang out with sick ducks, and cry louder than a fire truck...but what about you guys and your annoying shit?!
DEE: I don’t have any annoying habits.
PJ: What about that super loud annoying machine you were using earlier today?!!
Buck Fucker: PJ you moron, that is called a Vacuum Cleaner.
PJ: Well fine Buck, but what about you shooting up all of Dee’s dolls?
DEE: Wait, you don’t mean my limited edition, never before played with, action figures, do you?
Buck Fucker: Hey I might have blown them up with my badass 12 gauge, but how I am post to score with chicks with toys everywhere!!
DEE: Damnit Buck, I am sure the hooker won’t care, as long as you pay her.
PJ: Not always true Dee, I have paid them before and they gave me a refund after I took my shirt off...so HA, joke is on you.
DEE: I can’t believe you Buck, if I wasn’t a peaceful man, I would....I would...
Buck Fucker: What tell your Mommy on me? Hahaha.
PJ: Hey speaking of your mom, thinks she might want to come over and cook us dinner, I am sick of eating ketch-up packets until I get full...it takes like all day.
DEE: Well I guess that brings up back to my Themed Dinners idea.
Buck Fucker: That idea is gayer than you Dee.
DEE: That is Buck...I have had it...I am going to kill you.
(Dee stands on his chair as Buck gets to his feet.)
Buck Fucker: Bring it on Nerd-o-bot! I will crush you easier than ICE does that Joe Ho guy!
DEE: Careful Buck, I use my nails!!
PJ: AHHHHHH!!!! FIGHT!!!!!
(DEE jumps at Buck as PJ charges into Buck’s gut. The three dysfunctional roommates fall backwards into the camera causing the screen to shake and rumble before it cuts to a static screen and finally black at the bonus part of the promo comes to an end.)