Growing

[Thomas Uriel Bates]

ACT I “The Crew is Growing”
I-70 East – Outside of Denver, Colorado – March 8th, 2015

Our scene begins on the road, I-70 to be precise. Traffic is sparse, but the camera fixates on one motorcycle in particular. A black customized Harley Davidson Softail, painted black with the words “BATES” written in bold red letters on the gas tank. Ape style handlebars and a high Sissy Bar complete the vintage Easy Rider look of the motorcycle. The man riding the motorcycle is also of interest. The rider wears blue jeans, black motorcycle boots, a black t-shirt, and a black leather vest. His helmet is of the half helmet variety and black in color.

As the rider passes the camera, two other motorcycles come up and join him in a small V formation. Behind them is a Ford Escape, black in color with the windows tinted. The squadron soon pulls over at an abandoned lot, formerly a gas station. The first rider takes off his helmet, confirming the suspicions that it was indeed Thomas Uriel Bates. The other two bikers likewise take their helmets off, revealing their faces. One of the two has a very visible scar across his face. The two newcomers nod their heads at Bates as he gets off the bike. They follow his lead. The SUV driver door opens, and a man steps out wearing a black three piece suit. The suit walks towards Bates and stops five paces from the big man. The suit speaks with a very elegant voice, BBC English.

Suit: Good evening, Mr. Bates.

Thomas Bates: I’m assuming that you are employed by my uncle?

Suit: Forgive me; I have never been too well with introductions. I am Sean de Quincy the Third, Chief of Security for Golanv Enterprises. Yes, I am employed by your uncle.

The biker with the scar steps over to Bates. He speaks with a thick Scottish accent.

Scottish Biker: Tommy boy, it’s good. Your uncle wanted us to step in to help you with this FCC shite.

Sean de Quincy III: I’ve been looking into this Mr. Worth individual. He is typical of your Federal Bureaucrats from what I can find.

Thomas Bates: So what, you’re going to make sure no one sees him again?

Sean de Quincy III: No. We will make him go away, but through the legal system.

Bates looks over at the two other bikers.

Thomas Bates: Is that why you brought Conner and Charlie?

Scottish Biker: We’re just here to make sure nothing gets out of control. Conner doesn’t trust this Jonah fellah.

Bates looks over at the other biker, the one without the scar. The biker remains silent.

Thomas Bates: He talked?

Scottish Biker (Charlie): Of course not, but I’ve been riding with him for many years now, we’ve worked out a system of communication.

Sean starts walking back to the SUV and opens the door. He turns back to look at Bates once more.

Sean de Quincy III: We will give you an escort to your hotel in Denver. If Mr. Worth accepts your invitation to the debate, we’ll leave out for Philadelphia as soon as possible.

Sean gets in the SUV and shuts the door. As he starts the SUV, Charlie and Conner put their helmets back on and get back on their bikes.

Charlie: It’s alright Tommy boy, we’ve been legit since the incident. Not even a parking ticket.

Bates looks over at Charlie and Conner, shaking his head before putting his helmet back on. The scene ends with the bikers driving off, Bates leading the way and the SUV in tow.

ACT II “Old Friends”
Super 8 Denver Midtown – Denver, Colorado – March 8th, 2015

Our scene.... doesn’t open, this is not one of those televised moments that appear on television, or even on the WCF Network for $8.88. WCF’s hired stalkers, also known as the film crew, lost their trail courtesy of the Denver Police Department. Some things are better left unaired, especially with a threatening government entity on the lookout.

The sounds of the Harley-Davidson engines arrive at the Super 8 parking lot long before Bates and his new-found squadron arrive. Bates is of course leading the small V shape formation, and the black SUV pulling in just behind them. As the trio park their bikes next to each other, the SUV finds another parking lot. Bates is the first to remove his helmet and get off his bike, the others follow his lead.

As Bates begins to walk to his hotel room, another voice sounds out, loud enough to be heard three states away, the voice of the angry and still unnamed Scotsman.

The Manager: What the hell is this? What the hell is going on, who the fuck are all these people?!

Connor and Charlie simply look over to Bates, who himself is simply rolling his eyes and letting out a low growl. The Angry Scotsman approaches fast, then steps towards Conner.

The Manager: Who the fuck are you?

Conner simply stands there, his eyes staring down the PR Manager, he doesn’t say a word though. Instead, Charlie simply steps between the two of them.

Charlie: Whoa now, no need to get hostile here. We’re just a few friends, here to help out Tommy boy with his FCC problems.

The Manager: The FCC? What have you done now?

The PR Manager steps towards Bates now. The big man simply shakes his head.

Thomas Bates: Apparently they thought Slam was too violent and inappropriate. They stopped the show from airing on time. They just released it a few days ago.

The PR Manager moves away, not entirely pleased to have Conner and Charlie there. Before he can speak though, Sean de Quincy III approaches behind him.

Sean de Quincy III: It’s been far too long since we’ve last corresponded.

The PR Manager quickly turns around, his eyes widen and his face frozen in shock.

The Manager: The last time I saw you, was...

The PR Manager looks at everyone else, then returns to Sean.

The Manager: Well, you know.

Sean de Quincy III: Mr. James asked us to come in and help keep an eye on this FCC Adviser, Mister Johan Worth.

The PR Manager nods, then turns towards Bates. The big man is simply leaning against the wall of his hotel room.

The Manager: Do you know who you’re facing yet?

Thomas Bates: I think it’s something like Donald Sharpe, something like that.

The Manager: No, Donavan Sharp is his name. He joined up only a few days after you did and had his debut match on Slam.

Thomas Bates: Oh, I think I remember now. Big black guy?

The Manager: Aye, he’s twa inches taller than you.

The PR Manager hands Bates a folder, which he opens. Inside the folder is a profile of Donavan Sharp, complete with photos of his previous match. One image in particular though is a non-wrestling image, his mug shot from his prior arrest in Baltimore.

The Manager: You remember that race riot in Baltimore a few years back? He’s the one that started it. He hates anyone that isn’t the same skin color as he is.

Bates continues to read the profile. After a few moments, he looks up.

Thomas Bates: Black Power, the Lynch? This guy really has a lot of hate doesn’t he?

The Manager: That he does. Now I’ve already pulled up his last promotional video, as well as his match from Slam. It’s waiting for you in the room.

Bates nods, and walks through the doors of his room. As the PR Manager nears the door following him, Bates slams it shut, coming within inches of the PR Manager’s nose. The two bikers start laughing.

Charlie: I don’t think he likes you very much.

The PR Manager turns to face the fellow Scotsman.

The Manger: Piss off.

The non-scene ends with Sean de Quincy III handing a different folder to the PR Manager.

ACT III “Black & White”
Colorado State University, Basketball Gym – Fort Collins, Colorado – March 9th, 2015

Our scene opens to an empty basketball gym, the Colorado State Rams Basketball Gym to be precise. Sitting at the bleachers we find one of the largest men in the entire World Championship Federation, Thomas Uriel Bates. Bates is wearing blue jeans and motorcycle boots, along with a black buttoned up shirt and a black leather jacket. On the left breast of the jacket is a tab that reads “NOMAD”. This is the only visible patch on the jacket.

Our local giant is calmly sitting down on the bench, his arms stretched out and resting on the bleachers behind him. His face is turned, looking towards the entrance of the basketball gym. The camera zooms in, getting a better view of the massive man. He waits in silence for a few moments before finally speaking up in his deep Delta accent. His face does not turn from the entrance.

Thomas Bates: January, year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Seventy, Colorado State University versus Brigham-Young University in a basketball game. Students of the University staged a peaceful protest before the game, in response to the alleged racism of the Mormon Church.

Bates turns his focus on the camera, and in turn to Donovan Sharp, his opponent at Slam.

Thomas Bates: This country was in a unique place in history. The Civil Rights Movement has been going strong since the fifty’s. Tired of being treated as second class citizens, blacks started to take to the streets. This was a revolution of sorts which would forever change the face of the Nation, and even the World itself. Sadly, Doctor Martin Luther King Junior was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee at Six O’ One in the afternoon of the fourth day of April, Nineteen Hundred and Sixty-Eight. He had preached non-violence in this revolution, but many others did not share his views.

Though non-violence was the intention of the protest here at Colorado State University, that dream too did not come to fruition. During halftime, protesters stormed the gym shouting “Black Power” and raising their fist in their salute. Fighting and rioting occurred, violence completely opposite the intentions of Doctor King. It took the Police Riot Squad to put down this race riot, though the tension remained for quite some time after.

Does this sound familiar to you, Mister Sharp? Is it familiar that angry youths were putting their own cause in jeopardy by inciting a race riot? Sounds a little something like what I heard happened in Baltimore back in, what was it, O’ Eight? A young punk kid with so much built up rage that he lashed out at a perceived wrong? What did that get you, two years?

Bates turns his focus back to the entrance and pauses for a few moments. He soon continues, keeping his focus again at the entrance.

Thomas Bates: Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of injustices in this world. Racism is still very much alive; one just has to listen to Mister Barrack Hussein Obama during just about any of his speeches. What’s interesting about race relations in this Country now though, just about fifty years after such Civil Rights hallmarks such as the Selma March, is how much racism has changed.

Bates turns his attention towards the camera again, this time leaning forward.

Thomas Bates: Just turn on the television any day, just about any time. You’ll hear someone complaining about “White Privilege”, or “Hands up don’t shoot!”, or some other modern day phrase meant to embarrass and put down the white race, especially the Southern People. Constant reminders of how whites had blacks in slavery, all the while conveniently forgetting just who sold whites the black slaves to begin with, and who in the world still has black slaves. I’ll give you a hint, they’re not white.

The largest number of slaves in the world today is in Pakistan, India, and Nepal, as well as many of the nations and tribes of Africa. Yet when anyone talks about slavery, they talk about it as if the South was the only place and the last place to have slaves. They talk as if black slaves were the only types of slaves that ever existed. They talk as if whites are the only race in the entire universe that is guilty of slavery and of racism. This entire concept is in itself racist. It shows the bigotry of the entire movement today.

Let’s talk for a moment about “Black Privilege”, a conveniently forgotten issue in American and World politics today. On the sixth of March, Nineteen Sixty-One, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy issued Executive Order Ten-Ninety two-Five, the first instance in American history to use the term “Affirmative Action”. Originally a very well intentioned order, and at the time a much needed one. Affirmative Action meant that now minorities actually had a chance to have the same job and pay as whites in America. The act has changed over the course of history, at first for the best, and later for the worse. You see, instead of cancelling the order once a balance had been achieved, they continued it. Now we have a perversion of a Dream, the very Dream of one Doctor Martin Luther King Junior. Where he felt that a man should be judged by the content of his character and not the color of his skin, this order and today’s culture has changed it all.

We are not judged by the content of our character, but by the color of our skin. Take for instance two people applying for the same job. One is white and the other is black. It does not matter the qualities of the two workers, if the business has below a certain percentage of minority workers, guess who gets the job, regardless of their qualification?

Bates sits back again, stretching out his arms on the bleachers, and looking towards the entrance again.

Thomas Bates: Why am I talking about all of this? What does it have to do with wrestling? Didn’t wrestling itself push the boundaries of racial equality? Didn’t Bobo Brazil become the first black man to win the NWA World Heavyweight Championship on the eighteenth of October, Nineteen Sixty-Two? Sure, the NWA didn’t recognize the title change, letting Ron Simmons claim it on the Second of August, Nineteen Ninety-Two. No, this racial discussion is in response to what I have seen from Mister Donovan Sharp so far.

Bates turns and looks at the camera, his eyes showing the level of intensity that puts fear in the heart of many a man.

Thomas Bates: Donovan, every time I hear something you say, you’ve been spewing hate. I’ve known people like you my whole life. Before I moved to Huntsville, I lived in Memphis, Tennessee. I saw people like you every single day. You can’t get by on your own merits, so you have to throw up the race card. You have no character to speak of, so you have to remind everyone of the color of your skin. You disgust me Donovan. You, and people like you, are the very reason Doctor King’s dream is on the verge of death. You are the very reason why racial harmony is still years ahead of us.

When you’re not trying to convince yourself that blacks are the superior race, you keep trying to talk about how big you are, sounds a bit like you’re over-compensating for something there Donovan. Let me tell you something, you may have height, standing at Six Foot and Eleven Inches, but you’re not facing some skinny little punk that has to ask you to get the cookies from the top of the refrigerator.

I stand at six foot and nine inches, weigh four hundred and thirty pounds of muscle. I bench press five hundred and ten pounds, deadlift nine hundred and ninety-four pounds. I can carry a log weighing one thousand four hundred and thirty three pounds for five steps, a feat only described in the ancient sagas.

It’s not often that someone of your size is matched, but I’m here to tell you that at Slam, you will be not only matched, but outclassed and out wrestled. I trained under my father, “The Memphis Giant” Andre Uriel Bates, a man who makes you look like a dwarf, standing at seven foot and nine inches and weighing almost six hundred pounds. Even with my size, I learned how to fight bigger men, stronger men. Like those I’ve already faced here in the WCF who have shown true wrestling skills, Gemini Battle, Jay Omega, Zombie McMorris, I know what it takes to bring down bigger opponents.

You see Mister Sharp, in addition to my power and strength; I also have the wrestling skills needed to fight anyone I need to. I can apply submission holds that could snap a Redwood Tree in half. I was taught never to let my size be the only attribute. My father taught me that I must study and learn, and become proficient in the technical aspect of the ring, and be prepared for anything that comes my way.

This won’t be a massacre, Mister Sharp. This won’t be a face to chest in the ring. This is eye to eye, power to power. This is strength against strength, giant against giant. Something tells me, Mister Sharp, that you’re not used to that.

Our scene ends with the massive Thomas Uriel Bates standing up and walking down the bleachers to the floor. The camera stays in place, but follows as the giant walks out of the basketball gym of the Colorado State University.

ACT IV “Big Plans”
Delgado’s Gym – Denver, Colorado – March 9th, 2015

We open this scene to the Delgado’s Gym in Denver, Colorado. This is one of Denver’s primer locations for training in Boxing and in Martial Arts, and for today, training in professional wrestling. Today there are unconventional training tools in the gym. There are large boulders and massive logs in place of conventional weights. Barbells are solid and massive, the type seen mainly in strongman competitions. It is here that we find once again, the massive mountain known as Thomas Uriel Bates.

Standing around the massive man is a small crowd of weightlifters, boxers, martial artists, and other fans and supporters. The WCF superstar is in the middle of lifting one of the large boulders. He first brings it to his chest, and then quickly brings it to his right shoulder. In a show of his strength, he flexes his left biceps and lets out a massive roar. After a moment, he grabs the boulder with both arms and gently lets it down with a thunderous applause from all present. An older black man approaches the giant and slaps him on the back.

Old Man: I have never seen that done in person Mister Bates. That was amazing.

Bates smiles, and returns the pat on the back.

Thomas Bates: Thank you Ricky. Not everyone is willing to let me come into their gym and train this way. Usually I’m at some farmland that I have to rent out.

Old Man (Ricky): It’s not a problem. When your manager called me, I didn’t really believe him at first. One of my guys is a WCF fan though, told me all about you. I had to see it for myself.

Bates smiles, and then turns his focus to the doors as the same two bikers from earlier walk through the door, Conner and Charlie. The pair walks towards Bates, with Charlie extending his hand and meeting with Bates’.

Thomas Bates: Good to see you two again.

Charlie: We’re all set Tommy boy. Talked to a few of the Chapters, they’re all for it. Quentin is approving the transfers once we reach enough people.

Thomas Bates: Sounds great. I’ve already got someone in mind.

Before Bates can finish, Ricky comes back into view, somewhat concerned. Bates turns and smiles at him, extending his arm to introduce the pair.

Thomas Bates: Sorry, where are my manners? Ricky, this is Charles “Charlie” Anderson. The quiet one is Conner Noskov.

Charlie Anderson: Yea, he doesn’t talk much anymore. Not since a few Russians cut out his tongue.

Ricky’s eyes widen, but Bates places his hand on his shoulder.

Thomas Bates: Don’t worry, they’re good.

Ricky: Alright, if you say so.

Ricky walks off, leaving the trio to their business.

Charlie Anderson: So, who do you have in mind?

Bates smiles. Conner and Charlie join in on the smile as the trio hatch bigger plans for the WCF. Our scene ends with no answer to Charlie's question, at least not one we can hear. Conner and Charlie nod and walk out of the gym, leaving Bates to his training