Post by Steve Orbit on Jan 12, 2014 15:24:40 GMT -5
Professional wrestlers are human. The toll that this sport takes on their body is something that is rarely discussed. Sure, we hear about a guy who is out with an injury, and we know about the ones who have had to retire early. We know that the famous wrestlers who have made it to their golden years have one thing in common-- they hurt all over. Even if we've never experienced pain on that scale, we understand that getting kicked in the head HURTS. Getting powerbombed through a table HURTS. If you count the bumps from one match-- add that to the bumps from the last match, and so on and so on, years worth of matches and thousands of bumps, what are you left with? A human being who is constantly in physical pain. And maybe there's an understanding that to be in this business, you have to possess an abnormally high threshold for pain. That doesn't change the fact that the pain is there. Whether your favorite wrestler wants to admit it or not.
==
Scene opens inside a doctor's office. Not your local clinic-- this is a superstar doctor. Doctor Christopher Gaspar is one of the go-to guys for atheletes, celebrities-- and celebrity atheletes. He comes with the highest recommendation from all of his clients. His office is on the 51st floor-- his office IS the 51st floor.
"The Mack" Steve Orbit sits in a blue patient gown atop an examination table. He looks around the office at Dr. Gaspar's credentials-- buried among pictures of the good doctor with many famous drug abusers, hugging and shaking hands. Thumbs up all around. Orbit chuckles to himself and then reaches for his iPhone, scrolling through a wrestling dirt sheet. He likes to read his own rumors. Did you guys know Havana is pregnant with Steve's baby again? Wow.
The door to the office swings open. Dr. Gaspar enters the room, wearing a white lab coat. He's a short, round man with unkempt curly brown hair. A pair of glasses hang off of his nose. He waddles towards Orbit with his hand extended.
Dr. Gaspar: Mr. Orbit!
Orbit gives a handshake and a smile.
Steve Orbit: Nice to meet you, man.
Dr. Gaspar: The pleasure is all mine. I'm a big fan-- huge fan. You're a rapper, right?
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: Professional wrestler.
The doctor laughs.
Dr. Gaspar: Oh, right! Of course, of course-- WCF, right? You're the pimp guy! Right. Hey-- I don't want to see you talking to any of my secretary's, alright?
The doctor laughs again. Orbit gives a courtesy laugh. The doctor begins putting on a pair of rubber gloves.
Dr. Gaspar: So, what brings you to my office?
Steve Orbit: Well, I heard you specialize in pain management.
Dr. Gaspar: I specialize in a lot of things.
The doctor grins, raising and lowering his eyebrows repeatedly, looking like a child molester.
Dr. Gaspar: And yes, pain management is one of them. I've treated many atheletes like yourself-- boxers, football players and wrestlers like yourself. I understand the agony that you fellows are in and it's my policy, no, my MISSION to eliminate the pain in your life.
Steve Orbit: Cool. So, how does this work? You gonna do a physical or somethin'? I tell you what hurts?
Dr. Gaspar reaches for a clipboard hung to the back of the door. He hands it to Orbit with a pen.
Dr. Gaspar: You fill this out. I check your vital signs, and as long as you're in seemingly good health, I can treat you.
Orbit takes the clipboard and begins filling out the papers. Gaspar places a cup with an orange cap next to Orbit.
Dr. Gaspar: I'll also need a urine sample.
Orbit looks up from the paperwork.
Dr. Gaspar: For the drug screen.
Steve Orbit: Wait... what?
Dr. Gaspar: It's for insurance purposes-- nothing to worry about.
Dr. Gaspar winks and pats Orbit on the shoulder. He leaves the room.
A while later, the doctor is checking Orbit's vital signs. A nurse enters the room to place a folder on the table.
Dr. Gaspar: Everything looks good to me. You're the picture of perfect health.
He walks over to the folder and opens it, reading the papers.
Dr. Gaspar: Uh-huh... yes. I see. Hmm.
Steve Orbit: What's up?
Dr. Gaspar: I have the results of your drug screen. I see that you tested positive for cocaine. Are you a heavy cocaine user?
Steve Orbit: Nah, not at all. It's just-- I own a strip club. Strippers and cocaine are kinda... they go hand in hand, you know what I'm sayin'? I really don't fuck with it too much. Once in a while, if it's a late night and I had a lot to drink. That's about it.
Dr. Gaspar: I see. That's understandable. I'm more of an amphetamines guy myself.
Orbit chuckles.
Dr. Gaspar: Nonetheless, it is my duty as your physician to inform you that the medication I will be prescribing you should not be mixed with cocaine or any other stimulant. It can cause serious complications-- even death. It's bad for your heart, ok? You've heard of all the rock star deaths, drug overdoses-- most of the time with an overdose, it's actually the result of combining drugs. It's not necessarily one drug or the other, but the combination. So... do be careful.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I know all about the speedball. I've had girls die from mixing that shit. Look, I ain't tryin' to get high. I just need somethin' to manage the pain. For real.
Dr. Gaspar winks and starts moving his eyebrows again.
Steve Orbit: I'm serious, man.
Dr. Gaspar laughs.
Dr. Gaspar: Of course, of course-- so, what pain medications have you tried in the past?
Steve Orbit: Uh... well, just Percocet and Vicodin. I mighta had morphine once or twice, but those two is the ones I usually take. My ex-girl--- uh, my friend, had a prescription for the ten milligram percocets. I used to take two of those and it really helped with the pain.
The doctor is taking notes.
Dr. Gaspar: Oxycodone... twenty milligrams... alright. Here's what I'd like to do. We used to prescribe Oxycontin, which is an extended release form of Percocet. It's a wonderful drug, but it got a bad name because it's abuse potential is very high. In recent years we have switched to Roxicet. It comes in 15 or 30 milligrams, and it's instant release oxycodone.
Steve Orbit: So... it's the same as Percocet?
The doctor's eyes light up.
Dr. Gaspar: It's better. Percocet's formula is usually 500 milligrams of acetaminophen, or Tylenol, and 5, 10 or 15 milligrams of oxycodone, the narcotic ingredient. Roxicet contains no acetaminophen. It's pure oxycodone with very little filler. It is very easily broken down and absorbed by the stomach. Of course, since it has very little filler, if someone wanted to use another route of administration... it would be very easy to do with the Roxicet. Not that I recommend it or anything.
The doctor winks again.
Steve Orbit: Aight. That sounds good-- so how many you gonna give me?
Dr. Gaspar: I'm going to prescribe two 30 milligram pills, three times a day for management of chronic pain.
Steve Orbit: I don't really need--
Dr. Gaspar: Just take them as needed. Your tolerance will rise quickly. Next month we will re-evaluate your prescription. Alright?
Steve Orbit: Aight... cool.
Dr. Gaspar hands the prescription to Orbit.
Dr. Gaspar: Anything else you need?
Steve Orbit: Nah, I'm good. Thank you, though.
Gaspar leaves. Orbit begins to get dressed. Fade out.
==
Scene opens in Orbit's living room. He's sunken into the leather couch with his feet on the table. Next to his feet on the table is the bottle of pills. Orbit's eyelids are heavy. Valencia, the stripper from last week's promo, is passed out next to him. Orbit looks into the camera and begins, speaking a little bit slower than usual.
Steve Orbit: So, this week I'ma get in the ring with the so-called Original Gangster.
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: I mean, wow. I been lookin' for the Original. What type of gangster are you anyway, homie? Huh? You a mafia don, or you some kinda street corner boss? You a shot caller? I mean, I been watchin' you since you came onto the scene in the WCF, and I ain't never seen you do no gangsta shit. I hear you talkin' the talk, but that's about it.
I wonder if you know who I am? Do you know Steve Orbit? Do you know who Golden Joey, my mentor, was? To me, you look like a kid who watched Scarface a few times, maybe watched the Godfather and Sopranos-- you put on the fedora, bought a "tommy gun" and now you the mother fuckin' man. Am I right? See, I been all over the country-- I know the gangstas, man. My criminal record... while I ain't proud of it, it's public knowledge. Everybody know who the fuck I am, OG.
When I come home to Oakland, to the Gardens, they call me Triple OG. You know why? 'Cause where I'm from, if you make it past twenty-one years old, you a mother fuckin' old timer. I ain't even touched thirty years old yet, but to these kids, I'm like a grandfather. Or a Godfather. Kids start bangin' at twelve, thirteen years old in my 'hood. I did it too, after I lost my mom. These streets are a part of me, and they always will be.
That's why I have to take offense to you. I have to take offense to the name "Original Gangster". You can't just put on the Ice-T record and become an OG. You have to live that shit, you have to earn that shit. I don't believe you, man. I don't believe that's who you are.
But that don't even matter, homie. We ain't here to argue about gimmicks. We here to wrestle. I'm about to start my third year in the WCF, OG, and I get better every single year. I'm one of the best that this company has ever seen, OG. I'm the mother fuckin' Mack. You ain't gotta worry about if you gettin' the best of me. I'm a more capable wrestler than you on my worst day, OG. That's not to say you're a bad wrestler, or even a bad guy-- I don't know you enough to make that call. But I do know this-- I'ma beat you at Slam.
See you on Sunday.
Orbit uses a remote control to click off the camera.
==
Scene opens inside a doctor's office. Not your local clinic-- this is a superstar doctor. Doctor Christopher Gaspar is one of the go-to guys for atheletes, celebrities-- and celebrity atheletes. He comes with the highest recommendation from all of his clients. His office is on the 51st floor-- his office IS the 51st floor.
"The Mack" Steve Orbit sits in a blue patient gown atop an examination table. He looks around the office at Dr. Gaspar's credentials-- buried among pictures of the good doctor with many famous drug abusers, hugging and shaking hands. Thumbs up all around. Orbit chuckles to himself and then reaches for his iPhone, scrolling through a wrestling dirt sheet. He likes to read his own rumors. Did you guys know Havana is pregnant with Steve's baby again? Wow.
The door to the office swings open. Dr. Gaspar enters the room, wearing a white lab coat. He's a short, round man with unkempt curly brown hair. A pair of glasses hang off of his nose. He waddles towards Orbit with his hand extended.
Dr. Gaspar: Mr. Orbit!
Orbit gives a handshake and a smile.
Steve Orbit: Nice to meet you, man.
Dr. Gaspar: The pleasure is all mine. I'm a big fan-- huge fan. You're a rapper, right?
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: Professional wrestler.
The doctor laughs.
Dr. Gaspar: Oh, right! Of course, of course-- WCF, right? You're the pimp guy! Right. Hey-- I don't want to see you talking to any of my secretary's, alright?
The doctor laughs again. Orbit gives a courtesy laugh. The doctor begins putting on a pair of rubber gloves.
Dr. Gaspar: So, what brings you to my office?
Steve Orbit: Well, I heard you specialize in pain management.
Dr. Gaspar: I specialize in a lot of things.
The doctor grins, raising and lowering his eyebrows repeatedly, looking like a child molester.
Dr. Gaspar: And yes, pain management is one of them. I've treated many atheletes like yourself-- boxers, football players and wrestlers like yourself. I understand the agony that you fellows are in and it's my policy, no, my MISSION to eliminate the pain in your life.
Steve Orbit: Cool. So, how does this work? You gonna do a physical or somethin'? I tell you what hurts?
Dr. Gaspar reaches for a clipboard hung to the back of the door. He hands it to Orbit with a pen.
Dr. Gaspar: You fill this out. I check your vital signs, and as long as you're in seemingly good health, I can treat you.
Orbit takes the clipboard and begins filling out the papers. Gaspar places a cup with an orange cap next to Orbit.
Dr. Gaspar: I'll also need a urine sample.
Orbit looks up from the paperwork.
Dr. Gaspar: For the drug screen.
Steve Orbit: Wait... what?
Dr. Gaspar: It's for insurance purposes-- nothing to worry about.
Dr. Gaspar winks and pats Orbit on the shoulder. He leaves the room.
A while later, the doctor is checking Orbit's vital signs. A nurse enters the room to place a folder on the table.
Dr. Gaspar: Everything looks good to me. You're the picture of perfect health.
He walks over to the folder and opens it, reading the papers.
Dr. Gaspar: Uh-huh... yes. I see. Hmm.
Steve Orbit: What's up?
Dr. Gaspar: I have the results of your drug screen. I see that you tested positive for cocaine. Are you a heavy cocaine user?
Steve Orbit: Nah, not at all. It's just-- I own a strip club. Strippers and cocaine are kinda... they go hand in hand, you know what I'm sayin'? I really don't fuck with it too much. Once in a while, if it's a late night and I had a lot to drink. That's about it.
Dr. Gaspar: I see. That's understandable. I'm more of an amphetamines guy myself.
Orbit chuckles.
Dr. Gaspar: Nonetheless, it is my duty as your physician to inform you that the medication I will be prescribing you should not be mixed with cocaine or any other stimulant. It can cause serious complications-- even death. It's bad for your heart, ok? You've heard of all the rock star deaths, drug overdoses-- most of the time with an overdose, it's actually the result of combining drugs. It's not necessarily one drug or the other, but the combination. So... do be careful.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I know all about the speedball. I've had girls die from mixing that shit. Look, I ain't tryin' to get high. I just need somethin' to manage the pain. For real.
Dr. Gaspar winks and starts moving his eyebrows again.
Steve Orbit: I'm serious, man.
Dr. Gaspar laughs.
Dr. Gaspar: Of course, of course-- so, what pain medications have you tried in the past?
Steve Orbit: Uh... well, just Percocet and Vicodin. I mighta had morphine once or twice, but those two is the ones I usually take. My ex-girl--- uh, my friend, had a prescription for the ten milligram percocets. I used to take two of those and it really helped with the pain.
The doctor is taking notes.
Dr. Gaspar: Oxycodone... twenty milligrams... alright. Here's what I'd like to do. We used to prescribe Oxycontin, which is an extended release form of Percocet. It's a wonderful drug, but it got a bad name because it's abuse potential is very high. In recent years we have switched to Roxicet. It comes in 15 or 30 milligrams, and it's instant release oxycodone.
Steve Orbit: So... it's the same as Percocet?
The doctor's eyes light up.
Dr. Gaspar: It's better. Percocet's formula is usually 500 milligrams of acetaminophen, or Tylenol, and 5, 10 or 15 milligrams of oxycodone, the narcotic ingredient. Roxicet contains no acetaminophen. It's pure oxycodone with very little filler. It is very easily broken down and absorbed by the stomach. Of course, since it has very little filler, if someone wanted to use another route of administration... it would be very easy to do with the Roxicet. Not that I recommend it or anything.
The doctor winks again.
Steve Orbit: Aight. That sounds good-- so how many you gonna give me?
Dr. Gaspar: I'm going to prescribe two 30 milligram pills, three times a day for management of chronic pain.
Steve Orbit: I don't really need--
Dr. Gaspar: Just take them as needed. Your tolerance will rise quickly. Next month we will re-evaluate your prescription. Alright?
Steve Orbit: Aight... cool.
Dr. Gaspar hands the prescription to Orbit.
Dr. Gaspar: Anything else you need?
Steve Orbit: Nah, I'm good. Thank you, though.
Gaspar leaves. Orbit begins to get dressed. Fade out.
==
Scene opens in Orbit's living room. He's sunken into the leather couch with his feet on the table. Next to his feet on the table is the bottle of pills. Orbit's eyelids are heavy. Valencia, the stripper from last week's promo, is passed out next to him. Orbit looks into the camera and begins, speaking a little bit slower than usual.
Steve Orbit: So, this week I'ma get in the ring with the so-called Original Gangster.
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: I mean, wow. I been lookin' for the Original. What type of gangster are you anyway, homie? Huh? You a mafia don, or you some kinda street corner boss? You a shot caller? I mean, I been watchin' you since you came onto the scene in the WCF, and I ain't never seen you do no gangsta shit. I hear you talkin' the talk, but that's about it.
I wonder if you know who I am? Do you know Steve Orbit? Do you know who Golden Joey, my mentor, was? To me, you look like a kid who watched Scarface a few times, maybe watched the Godfather and Sopranos-- you put on the fedora, bought a "tommy gun" and now you the mother fuckin' man. Am I right? See, I been all over the country-- I know the gangstas, man. My criminal record... while I ain't proud of it, it's public knowledge. Everybody know who the fuck I am, OG.
When I come home to Oakland, to the Gardens, they call me Triple OG. You know why? 'Cause where I'm from, if you make it past twenty-one years old, you a mother fuckin' old timer. I ain't even touched thirty years old yet, but to these kids, I'm like a grandfather. Or a Godfather. Kids start bangin' at twelve, thirteen years old in my 'hood. I did it too, after I lost my mom. These streets are a part of me, and they always will be.
That's why I have to take offense to you. I have to take offense to the name "Original Gangster". You can't just put on the Ice-T record and become an OG. You have to live that shit, you have to earn that shit. I don't believe you, man. I don't believe that's who you are.
But that don't even matter, homie. We ain't here to argue about gimmicks. We here to wrestle. I'm about to start my third year in the WCF, OG, and I get better every single year. I'm one of the best that this company has ever seen, OG. I'm the mother fuckin' Mack. You ain't gotta worry about if you gettin' the best of me. I'm a more capable wrestler than you on my worst day, OG. That's not to say you're a bad wrestler, or even a bad guy-- I don't know you enough to make that call. But I do know this-- I'ma beat you at Slam.
See you on Sunday.
Orbit uses a remote control to click off the camera.
