Post by David Sanchez on Jul 5, 2015 12:24:02 GMT -5
Are We There Yet?
“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”
The scene opens to the sun shining through the window of a moving automobile, its glaring brightness making it hard to distinguish the car’s occupants at first sight. As the busy interstate goes about its life outside as does the living cargo inside. Chart music trickles from the radio at a tone which would question if anybody was actually listening to the all too familiar drones of Mumford and Sons’ latest single; Believe. Other driver’s pass our host on both sides, their faces looking inside for a brief second before they vanish into the blind-spot ahead being created by the fiery California sun reflecting and projecting against so many hundred metallic chassis.
“I’m going to be so cool when I get my mask. Have I told you? I really, really, really can’t wait. Are we there? Will it be long? Did you see that yellow car?”
Kayden fidgets around in his booster seat, kicking at the passenger’s seat in front and smearing some kind of imaginary drawing on the back window with his finger whilst he does his best to gain the attention of his parents who appear to by this time have stopped biting at his every whim. The car in itself is a Honda, a two-thousand and fifteen Honda CR-V to be precise, in jet black, with softly tinted black windows and a series of modification to make it seem more family friendly apparently. The soft whir of the air conditioning breathing a cooling breeze into the vehicle buzzes quietly under the tones of Kayden’s excited car manners.
“I’ll tell you when we get close, we know about the mask and yes, I seen the yellow car. I also saw the last seventeen yellow cars as they were announced to me. I’m on the ball son, it’s hard to drift off when you have a constant running commentary in the backseat.”
David speaks from the passenger seat as his wife drives them onwards to the shopping mall they had agreed to visit at breakfast, the traffic getting slower and denser as they approach their desired turnpike. Perhaps feeling the effects of his codeine infused exercise session or perhaps still slightly dis-heartened by the breakfast conversation a mere four hours ago where his son essentially dis-owned him as a role-model and adopted Teo Del Sol. The conversation was haunting David like a spectre of parental failure. He had always done everything in his power to be the best father, but on television, in the ring, he was always seen to be the bad guy. Sometimes he wished Kayden would get older, despite the dilemmas of raising a teenager he longed for a time where Kayden didn’t hopelessly dote after babyface wrestlers. He was doing the best he could with the talents he had in his arsenal. For that matter he understood the complicated nature of his role in the wrestling business, he excelled at being the bad guy and this is something his son would not understand until puberty. Knives’ hands are gripped firmly on the steering wheel as her husband attempts to halt their son’s constant questions and pointless ramblings. He was the apple of her eye, but sometimes a four year old was a lot more work than either parent had anticipated.
“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we theeeeeeere yet?”
“No son, we’re still ten minutes away. Do you want me to put a DVD on for you?”
Samm’s face shudders a little as her husband attempts to bribe their son into silence with promises of animated comedies. There was only so many times she could tolerate the Lion King; Kayden’s favourite and the only film that had ever been shown in the car’s movie system. A fitting waste of the extra dollar bills required to install the screens into the back of the two front seats. Sure it would buy them the silence of their son but was it going to be worth the potential aneurysm being caused by all the happy animals singing and dancing. It was the circle of life though, either way the child was always going to get the better of his parents, eventually. She manages to compose herself and indicates off onto an exit ramp, a turn which stirs their son back into life, interrupting his thoughts of whether he would rather re-watch an animated classic or simply continue to try his parent’s patience.
“Was that the turn? Are we here?”
With this latest agitation it is Knives who snaps a little, biting her lip and whispering something so that only David can hear her, being sure not to contradict her own criticism of David’s way of speaking around children.
“So help me god I will drive us all into a lake”
Laughing slightly as he watches his wives’ meltdown circling into full madness it is all David can do himself to point out that the shopping district was infact the very next turning and that the child was actually close enough this time that driving into a lake would be rather unproductive at this point. He tended to find himself a little hilarious when his body was filled with all those lovely toxins he had grown to rely so heavily on, even for simple tasks such as heading to the shops. He found that the codeine made him less likely snap, he was slow to anger and the world was generally just a happier place. This though had one fatal flaw, by raising his own tolerance it meant that Samantha was often seen as the bad guy, the one putting the foot down. Something which she had grown to accept but was never actually going to enjoy. As she turns into a fairly generic looking shopping plaza and parks the family car, her pale skin begins to lose some of its crimson rage indication. Noticing that Kayden has ceased to annoy upon entering the car park it is David himself now who attempts to find humour in the situation, turning and patting his wife repeatedly on the thigh whilst delivering those oh-so famous last words.
“Are we there yet? Are we there….”
Before he can even finish the second repetition of this phrase Samantha unfastens her belt, turns to her son and covers his eyes. All the while using her newly found freedom to stretch across to her husband in what looks to be a passionate embrace. Sensing he is about to receive an amorous kiss of sorts for his commitment to childlike humour David pucker his lips, only to have his wife sink her teeth into his cheek in a playful manner, yet still harsh enough to cause him to yelp with surprise.
“We’re here now kids, lets go”
The Brave Little Toaster
Entering the mall was an arduous process on its own, even without a hyperactive four year-old. Now in addition to dodging the masses of obese mall-shoppers equipped with their rascals and skateboarding teenagers equipped with their girlfriend’s tongue in their mouths they have to watch out for potential paedophiles and kidnappers around every corner. Unlike most people who shopped, dined and spent an entire day at these outlets though David and Samantha had a system to divide and conquer. As soon as they were through the mall’s concrete archway, they parted ways, each with their own tasks to fulfill and a pre-determined rendezvous point in two hours. Samantha takes Kayden and makes a direct route for the food court in order to distract her son from the various mascots, toy-stores and shiny objects that litter the interior amongst all of the chain-stores and water features.
David would normally have his own agenda at this stage, occupying a booth at Ruby Tuesdays and drinking himself happy for a few hours. Today was different though, he had to acquire a wrestling mask for his son. So off he gallops, wasting little time as he crashes through the door of a sporting goods store thinking that at the very least if he manages to complete this task quickly he could throw a couple of Coronas back while Samantha gets dragged around the ice-cream kiosks and cookie shops. He wastes no time in browsing the shelves but instead simply pounces on the first shop attendant he can find and begins his inquisition.
“Wrestling masks, Teo Del Sol to be specific, don’t imagine it will be a big seller. Kids sizes, no time like the present.”
Acknowledging who David was the shop assistant seems to get a little shy, he couldn’t be much older than twenty after-all. Probably a fan the Black Rose thinks to himself, almost reaching into his pocket to find a pen and sign something before the clerk can ask for an autograph. Before this can happen however the attendant begins to speak in a pre-pubescent voice, a little shakier than a man had expected.
“I’m sorry sir, the man himself just came inside with his agent and bought up our whole stock, maybe only twenty minutes ago too, he was going to be giving out signed masks to local kids near the fountain outside the Starbucks closest to the Apple store. He’s probably still there if you…”
Before the trembling teenager can finish his sentence David storms back out of the store, bulldozing through a gaggle of middle-aged women who shown no fault except being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Allowing the shouts of disrespect and carelessness to fade back into the distance he continues to travel like a bowling ball through endless crowds and pointless shops. That is until he hits a slight pause; Ruby Tuesdays. Fuck, he could use a drink right now.
“No... Mask to be found. Drink later.”
Continuing on from his momentary lapse in judgement, David takes the next corner at a frightening pace but comes to a screeching halt just as soon as he does. There he was; Teo Del Sol. The man who had ruined his entire morning without ever being in the same room as him. Flanked by his agent and surrounded by children clawing for pictures, free merchandise and sentiments of good faith. Storming forward, the self-proclaimed Last King of Wrestling wades through the sea of kids with ease and is a few inches from Del Sol himself when Pete puts himself in the middle, none too confident but doing his best to act in his client’s best interest nonetheless.
“Can I help you sir?”
Before David can reply to this Pete’s question though it is Teo himself who turns around, greeting his fellow wrestler with a big smile, clearly believing that their meeting here is a complete coincidence and not the bi-product of David’s fury. He stretches out his arm to offer a handshake, an act which the Black Rose greets as nothing short of insulting.
“I want one of your masks for my son, apparently your little classroom escapade earned you a new fan.”
“Sorry man, actually I just gave the last one to that nice young boy over there, wasn’t expecting such a turn-out, It’s good to se...”
Teo Del Sol stops speaking rather abruptly as he watches David turn his back on him without so much as a thought for how disrespectful this was. Sanchez move fifteen feet away from Teo and approaches the child who had been granted the final luchadore mask. Scanning the area quickly to ensure that there were no guardians around David snatches the garment from this child of perhaps eleven and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans, turning back to face his new adversary who now looks a little less than impressed having just watched one of his recently gained fans be robbed in broad daylight by a much larger older man. The child begins to sob and leaves the scene broken-hearted, mask-less and victimized.
“Why did you do that!?”
“Because I can. Gather round children, it’s time you all heard my favourite children’s story.”
David begins to usher the children around Teo and Pete as he himself stands behind them, keeping a barricade of youthful innocence between his target and himself. A wall which he knew all too well that the happy-go-lucky luchadore was far too nice of a man to climb. With little to no emotion in his voice David begins to address Del Sol directly, somehow still captivating the attention of the children as well.
“What I’m about to tell you all is the story of The Brave Little Toaster. You see, not unlike you Teo; Toasty preached the ways of working together, he and his band of outdated appliances travelled the land overcoming all the adversity that stood between them and their goal of finding their way back into the possession of their master. Do you know how that story worked out kids? Let David tell you. Toasty, Radio, Lampy, Blanky and Kirby were tricked and wound up in a junkyard. They tried for days to escape the clutches of the evil crushing machine; Crusher and his sidekick… who I believe was just a crane with a magnet affixed. To cut a long story short, their owner eventually tracks them down to this location, but he himself is instead captured by Crusher. Now, what does the toaster do? He does what he always does. He takes one for team and throws himself into the gearbox just before Rob and his less human friends can be destroyed. A bold move, and one that saves everybody else but mangles himself in the process. Now being that this was a Pixar film from the late eighties, as you can imagine everybody lived happily ever after with their little disabled toaster at the end of the day but cast a thought for a second here. Do you think rob still has that two-slotted Sunbeam T9 automatic toaster? I’m going to guess no. He has a four-slice toaster from Walmart that costs half the price and runs twice as well. All I’m trying to say here children is be careful when you worship an inferior product. You never know who’s going to be a little mangled toaster next week.”
