The Jade Empress of Fleetwood, PA
Apr 13, 2016 4:45:26 GMT -5
Steve Orbit, Bonnie Blue, and 2 more like this
Post by The Polar Phantasm on Apr 13, 2016 4:45:26 GMT -5
[Scene: a darkened state highway, somewhere in southern central Pennsylvania. We are traveling in the Mothership, Cornelius Casanova's emerald green Oldsmobile Nighty-Eight... the moon hangs heavily about midway down the night sky. The Mothership has been around, that much is obvious- the fabric making up the car's roof is tacked in places, glued in others. The backseat has a gash in it, a souvenir from a rather wacky road trip Casanova took years back with his old friend (and former tag partner in the Mothership Connection) "Emerald Prince" Danny Darwin... since that night, Cornelius instituted a 'no weapons allowed in the car' policy; he may has well have instituted a 'no psychotic groupies in the backseat' policy, as far as that incident goes. But that's another story for another day, and definitely for another characters' promo. It is the early AM hours of a Monday, what many would consider a 'late Sunday night'... Cornelius and Polar sit in the front seat of the vehicle, which appears to glide above the dark surface of the road moreso than drive over it. Blame that Oldsmobile luxury suspension... yes, the Mothership dates back to a time when Detroit (as Cornelius would say) "did the damn thang." Behind our heroes, we notice "Jade Empress" Angela Chen passed out across the back seat (head neatly tucked up against that groupie-incident seat gash) hugging a pillow and snoring softly.]
Phantasm: Too quiet.
[Cornelius looks to him, wondering to what Polar was referring...]
Casanova: I didn't say anything-
Phantasm: I know, I was pre-emptively stating that yes, it was getting too quiet in here. I knew you were thinking it.
Casanova: I was actually thinking we got about an hour before slippin' into the driveway...
Phantasm: Oh, great. Plenty of time for a story.
Casanova: What kinda story you got, Kid?
[Polar smiles; few people still call him 'Kid', even fewer since he became a father. Cornelius Casanova is one of those people... perhaps the Phantasm doesn't mind because he's directly responsible for nicknaming his friend 'Corndog' in the early days of their friendship. Perhaps he doesn't mind because Cornelius' late father called them both 'Kid'.]
Phantasm: Nah, Cornelius, it's story time for you. You never did tell me just how you met Angela... and I'm sure it's a story worth hearing.
[Cornelius peeks back to see if she's awake for the conversation, but Angela's out like a light. Polar laughs softly at his friends' diligence.]
Phantasm: Yeah, it must be a good one. As long as we keep it to a low roar, she should be fine- your old lady can sleep, man.
Casanova: Fuckin' right she can; five bucks says I gotta carry her tiny ass into the house when we get there. Hey, peep the glove box- gear's all in there.
[Polar opens the glove compartment; he nods silent agreement as he retrieves a medicine bottle full of ground marijuana and a pack of JOB 1.25"s.]
Casanova: Roll somethin'.
Phantasm: Workin' on it, kimosabe. Alright, so I remember you said you met her about a year ago...
[As Polar eyes out a dense line of green, reflected in the moonlight through the Olds' windshield through the thin paper of its soon-to-be-wrapper, Cornelius Casanova begins his tale.]
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POLAR PHANTASM (volume 4) #2: The Jade Empress of Fleetwood, PA
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[Scene: Charles Residence, Fleetwood, PA; roughly one year ago. Cornelius wakes up in his bedroom, alone; he gets up, stretching a bit in his "FREE YO MIND & YO ASS WILL FOLLOW" t-shirt and black boxers. He rubs his eyes, bends and touches his toes, then spots his relection across the room and flexes jokingly for his mirror. Cut to downstairs; he stomps down the stairs unceremoniously, then heads into his kitchen and begins making himself a pot of coffee. Cornelius turns on the morning news; we watch as he scratches his head, then digs into a cabinet for a box of frosted strawberry toaster pastries. After the weather report, a commercial appears on the television for a martial arts dojo about six blocks from his house. Amidst the feel-good images of adorable children performing kata for their parents and the likely-stock-footage shots of men breaking blocks and splitting wood with karate chops, there is a brief moment where the sensei herself(!) appeals to the audience, stating that anyone can learn to defend themselves and so forth. Coffee and pop-tarts forgotten, commercial mostly tuned out; Cornelius stands there, one thing painfully obvious to him.]
Casanova: Fuckin' dimepiece. Damn.
[At that point, he rationalized that he could use a workout.]
Casanova: ...that's one ass-kickin' piece.
[Cornelius pours his coffee, taking a bite from an untoasted pop-tart... he has a distinct, distant look in his eye. If he had been there at that moment, his friend Polar would've told him what that look meant; of course, at that time suggesting such a thing to Cornelius would probably have led the two to come to blows. Cut to a couple hours later, we watch Cornelius drop off his dry cleaning. He looks as if he's nearly shaken off the specter that has haunted him since his day began; of course, we already know better, don't we? As he exits his dry cleaner, Cornelius notices that three doors down and across the street is a relatively-new martial arts studio... the sign in front of it reads 'JADE EMPRESS AIKIDO'. This was his second time seeing the building that day; of course, it's the same studio he was introduced to in spectacular fashion by a thirty-second spot during the morning news. Cornelius stuffs his dry cleaning into the Mothership's back seat, hanging it neatly on the one garment hook the Oldsmobile has managed to hang onto in its thirty years. He briefly checks his afro in his side-view mirror, then picks it for a moment. He probably doesn't even notice as he checks his breath fifteen paces from the dojo's front door. In fact, he probably doesn't notice a whole hell of a lot fifteen paces later once he gets through that door; the first taste Corndog gets of 'Jade Empress Aikido' is the image of the beautiful sensei training a group of seven or so adolescent neighborhood kids at an effective palm strike. She signals for one of the kids to attack her; she easily pushes away a limp-wristed palm strike, slapping the student playfully on the back of the head as if delivering a deathblow. Another student takes a turn; his palm strike is much better, but he gets cocky and tries to elbow-check the sensei (perhaps to prove his worth, or greatness... or just because he's a prick). Cornelius is finally knocked out of his stunned state, involuntarily laughing as the Sensei gives her attacker a wicked leg sweep and thumps his head against the gym matted floor.]
Angela: Alright, that's enough for today-
[The sensei notices the visitor standing in her school's foyer; she sizes him up, then seemingly ignores him and continues.]
Angela: -next class, Friday afternoon, 4:30! Don't be late, Philly. Paulie-
[She turns to the kid recovering from the swift introduction to the mat she'd just given.]
Angela: -your form has gotten a lot better, but your attitude still sucks. You're not here to learn violence, you're here to learn control.
[She helps the kid up; he mumbles a 'thanks Sensei' or something like it as he heads for the door. As the last kids leave, Cornelius finally approaches...]
Casanova: This takes me back, really...
Angela: It does, does it? You study aikido?
Casanova: Nah, not exactly. Brings me back to my youth, when ol' Pops got me hooked on kickboxing instead of letting me end up riff-raff out on the street. Old man didn't have no fight in him, but he saw I was too good with my feet to do nothin' and I wasn't fuckin' with no track team. You ever see me in running shorts, call the cops; somebody put a gun to my head, or some shit.
[Angela laughs slightly.]
Casanova: Cornelius.
[He offers a hand; the petite but dangerous sensei shakes his hand with a smile.]
Angela: Angela. Sensei Angela Chen. So what brings you into my world, Cornelius? You ready to learn?
[He smiles a sly smile.]
Casanova: I'm always ready for a lesson.
Angela: And you've had no martial arts training; other than your kickboxing experience.
Casanova: Bit of muy thai, bit of jiu jitsu... most of the grappling I picked up wrestling.
Angela: A wrestler? Like, a pro wrestler?
[She turns away, taking a few steps back. Cornelius makes a face as if displeased with himself; he huffs out of his mouth as if upset at the mention of his wrestling career.]
Angela: Eh, it'll do.
[She leads him onto the mats and stands about three feet away from the self-proclaimed 'Funkiest Brother Alive'...]
Angela: Alright, hit me as hard as you can!
[He wonders if he should make a Fight Club joke or not; instead, he just chuckles. He takes a swing and hits the mat, hard. He didn't even come close to hitting the lithe little minx.]
Casanova: Fuck, Tyler Durden ain't got shit on you-
[She giggles softly.]
Angela: Want to continue, or are we done here?
[Cornelius is up in a flash, soon trading kick for kick as if his life depended on it. She takes him down; he rolls her over and pins her to the mat. Their eyes linger; she pushes three fingers into his midsection, compressing his diaphragm.]
Angela: We should make this official. Are you free tomorrow for another lesson?
[Cornelius considers pushing the issue, but the wind being pushed out of him forces all the 'game' right out of him. He rolls off of the lovely young woman, catching himself in a crouch and popping up as if he were spring-loaded.]
Casanova: Tomorrow, huh? Yeah, alright. We can make that work.
[He begins to extend for another handshake, but stops himself. They bow to one another respectfully. As he turns to leave, Cornelius catches himself turning back to give the girl a wink; for a moment there, he's almost certain he caught that sexy thing peeping out his ass.]
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[Scene: Back in the Mothership. Polar looks utterly blown away at Cornelius' story...]
Phantasm: There's no fuckin' way you didn't go for it. She was- and you were- you were fuckin' on top of her man, and she was into you! And you're... you!
[Polar notices he's shaking bits out of the still unsealed joint- he stops persuing his line of reason long enough to seal up the joint.]
Casanova: It wasn't like with most girls... shit, it wasn't like with any girls. I could tell this one was special, that she was worth getting to know 'cause she might actually stick around. Dig?
[Polar hands Cornelius the finished product, motioning it toward the man as if to say 'you first, my man'.]
Phantasm: Agreed. You, uh, you might actually not get bored of this one!
[Cornelius laughs.]
Casanova: Say that then.
[Cornelius lights up the joint; as he takes a drag, Polar prods him for more of the story.]
Phantasm: So, you met the next day-
[Cornelius puts up a hand as if to say, "chill, motherfucker". He chokes out a bit of smoke, then inhales a bit more... eventually blowing out a hefty cloud. As he passes the joint to the Phantasm, Casanova clears his throat...]
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[Scene: three months later, Fleetwood, PA. Cornelius and Angela are both dressed in gi, Cornelius in the middle of an aikido class being taught by Angela; we cut to Cornelius and Angela having cheesesteaks in a diner.]
Casanova: Shit just kept snowballin' from there... she taught me martial arts, i taught her a lil' somethin' about wrestling. One night we'd go to dinner, then it was her sleepin' at my place...
[Cut to Cornelius and Angela lying in bed, embracing half-covered by sheets under his ceiling fan. Cut to the next morning; Cornelius again gets up, this time next to Angela. Morning rituals he's had for years have become slightly different; he brushes his teeth before heading down stairs, and he heads down the stairs quietly so not to wake his woman. He makes a pot of herbal tea; as he picks at some leftover chicken in the refridgerator, he looks over at a pile of boxes marked 'ANGELA'S LIVING ROOM'.]
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[Scene: Back in the Mothership. Polar laughs, trying to hold his amusement back.]
Phantasm: Cornelius Casanova, funkiest brother alive, has shacked up with a woman. Finally settled down. Oh god, what would your father say?!
[His laughter almost wakes Angela; Cornelius quiets him.]
Casanova: Yo man, chill that shit.
Phantasm: I'm sorry man, I'm just... really happy for you, but... shit, it's fuckin' amusing how life goes, ain't it? I figured by this time you'd be bitching at me for settling down and having a kid, yet here we are talking about your live-in girlfriend and aikido instructor.
Casanova: For real though; I'm happy, you know? I ain't been this happy since Pops died, Kid. I mean, without ol' Freddy Charles around shit got real boring... all my homies comin' up are either dead, in the game or in the pen. Plus, it's good to have you back around man- you're like my brother, you know?
[Phantasm hits the joint again, passing it to his good friend; they briefly fist bump as they make the exchange.]
Phantasm: Yeah you right.
Casanova: Now that I got Angela with me, plus you and Crystal and y'all baby on the scene... shit, it's like I got family again. Means a lot to me, bruh.
Phantasm: I heard that. We're your family man, for sure. No doubt. Thing is, you're in the WCF family now... it's a weird incestuous little circle of reality that makes very little sense at times, but you gotta live with it. It's family. We have our fights, we have our celebrations... at the end of the day, we got each other.
[The Mothership turns onto a familiar street; Polar looks in wonder out the window, thinking he's seen this neighborhood before.]
Phantasm: We gotta be close to your place by now.
[They pull into a driveway; Polar laughs, recognizing the house. It hasn't changed a bit; it's like Cornelius is living in a shrine to his late father 'Ready' Freddy Charles. Cornelius tries to wake up Angela as Polar stretches; Angela feigns paralysis, teasing Cornelius into carrying her into the house. Polar smiles and shakes his head, remembering how he and Crystal were when the Pantheon first formed, before her kidnapping. Then he just plain old misses his wife and son. Cornelius looks back from the front porch...]
Casanova: Hey man, come on in when you ready.
[Polar notices his drift toward melancholy; he shrugs.]
Phantasm: My bad.
[Polar follows Cornelius and Angela inside. The door shuts... the porch light goes off.]
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[Scene: Charles Residence, next morning. Cornelius wakes up next to Angela; we see him go through his morning ritual. He heads down the stairs, noticing that Polar is already awake... and heading out the door - before 9 AM - carrying a bottle of Patron and two glasses.]
Casanova: Where you goin', man? It ain't even breakfast yet!
[From outside, we hear a car's horn. Halfway out the door, Phantasm hastily explains.]
Phantasm: Sorry man, my cab is here and I've got someplace I gotta visit. See you in a few, alright? We got plans to discuss.
[Before Cornelius can respond, we see Polar head through the dooryard and climb in back of the cab; he directs the cabby to the WCF Arena, and the cab speeds away. Cut to the front of the WCF Arena building; the front door is locked, but Polar pulls an old keychain out of his pocket and jingles it a bit trying to find the right key (without dropping his goodies).]
Phantasm: Thanks again, janitors. I forgot how many friends I made in my time here...
[We see the Phantasm cautiously ease his way through the arena doors, glass carefully in hand. Cut to the inside of the building; Polar walks down a hallway past two crew members pushing a cart. He nods to them. One of the crew just looks shocked; another shouts to him.]
Crew: You really back?
[Polar doesn't respond. He ducks into a nearby stairwell; cut to the roof of the WCF Arena, where we see the Phantasm come through the strairway door with a suspicious look about him. He walks over to a flat spot on the roof, with a few ducts merging and forming an almost table-like structure of ductwork... he places the glasses, pouring two very heavy belts of tequila. He closes his eyes for a second; before he can open them, Polar hears a familiar voice.]
Voice: To what are we toasting?
[Polar opens his eyes and looks across the duct-table at Bobby Cairo; good old Uncle Bobby. Polar lifts his glass, tilting towards Cairo.]
Phantasm: Whatever the hell you wanna toast, old man. It's just good to see you.
Cairo: How'd you know I'd be here?
[Polar smiles at his suspicious old friend, spectral as he may be.]
Phantasm: Easy. It's where I'd haunt, too, you know.
[They sip their beverage in silence, Polar smiling.]
Cairo: So what do you wanna talk about, Kid?
[Polar shrugs nonchalantly.]
Phantasm: Nothing yet, per se. I just missed my Uncle Bobby.
[With that, Cairo smiles. He may have died in a volcano, but even the afterlife seems unable to dampen the spirits of the Godfather... and his shining countenance appears to be charging his young former protege's spiritual batteries.]
Cairo: Just make me one promise, Kid-
Phantasm: Anything, Uncle Bobby.
[With a serious look, Cairo stares into Phantasm's soul.]
Cairo: No matter what, you make damn sure you keep WCF weird.
[With a massive belt of tequila (and a subsequent tequila wince, trebled in intensity by the shining of the mid-morning sun), Phantasm gives his ghastly advisor his most serious and committed stare.]
Phantasm: Bobby...
[Polar laughs a bit.]
Phantasm: You know, I really don't know how the fuck to do anything else.
[They both laugh and sip their beverages as the city of Reading goes about its business beneath them, blissfully unaware of just what has come home to roost.]
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[(c) Wrestling Championship Federation 2016. The views of the Polar Phantasm and Cornelius Casanova are not those of WCF or any of its sponsors or affiliates. All rights reserved.]
Phantasm: Too quiet.
[Cornelius looks to him, wondering to what Polar was referring...]
Casanova: I didn't say anything-
Phantasm: I know, I was pre-emptively stating that yes, it was getting too quiet in here. I knew you were thinking it.
Casanova: I was actually thinking we got about an hour before slippin' into the driveway...
Phantasm: Oh, great. Plenty of time for a story.
Casanova: What kinda story you got, Kid?
[Polar smiles; few people still call him 'Kid', even fewer since he became a father. Cornelius Casanova is one of those people... perhaps the Phantasm doesn't mind because he's directly responsible for nicknaming his friend 'Corndog' in the early days of their friendship. Perhaps he doesn't mind because Cornelius' late father called them both 'Kid'.]
Phantasm: Nah, Cornelius, it's story time for you. You never did tell me just how you met Angela... and I'm sure it's a story worth hearing.
[Cornelius peeks back to see if she's awake for the conversation, but Angela's out like a light. Polar laughs softly at his friends' diligence.]
Phantasm: Yeah, it must be a good one. As long as we keep it to a low roar, she should be fine- your old lady can sleep, man.
Casanova: Fuckin' right she can; five bucks says I gotta carry her tiny ass into the house when we get there. Hey, peep the glove box- gear's all in there.
[Polar opens the glove compartment; he nods silent agreement as he retrieves a medicine bottle full of ground marijuana and a pack of JOB 1.25"s.]
Casanova: Roll somethin'.
Phantasm: Workin' on it, kimosabe. Alright, so I remember you said you met her about a year ago...
[As Polar eyes out a dense line of green, reflected in the moonlight through the Olds' windshield through the thin paper of its soon-to-be-wrapper, Cornelius Casanova begins his tale.]
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POLAR PHANTASM (volume 4) #2: The Jade Empress of Fleetwood, PA
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[Scene: Charles Residence, Fleetwood, PA; roughly one year ago. Cornelius wakes up in his bedroom, alone; he gets up, stretching a bit in his "FREE YO MIND & YO ASS WILL FOLLOW" t-shirt and black boxers. He rubs his eyes, bends and touches his toes, then spots his relection across the room and flexes jokingly for his mirror. Cut to downstairs; he stomps down the stairs unceremoniously, then heads into his kitchen and begins making himself a pot of coffee. Cornelius turns on the morning news; we watch as he scratches his head, then digs into a cabinet for a box of frosted strawberry toaster pastries. After the weather report, a commercial appears on the television for a martial arts dojo about six blocks from his house. Amidst the feel-good images of adorable children performing kata for their parents and the likely-stock-footage shots of men breaking blocks and splitting wood with karate chops, there is a brief moment where the sensei herself(!) appeals to the audience, stating that anyone can learn to defend themselves and so forth. Coffee and pop-tarts forgotten, commercial mostly tuned out; Cornelius stands there, one thing painfully obvious to him.]
Casanova: Fuckin' dimepiece. Damn.
[At that point, he rationalized that he could use a workout.]
Casanova: ...that's one ass-kickin' piece.
[Cornelius pours his coffee, taking a bite from an untoasted pop-tart... he has a distinct, distant look in his eye. If he had been there at that moment, his friend Polar would've told him what that look meant; of course, at that time suggesting such a thing to Cornelius would probably have led the two to come to blows. Cut to a couple hours later, we watch Cornelius drop off his dry cleaning. He looks as if he's nearly shaken off the specter that has haunted him since his day began; of course, we already know better, don't we? As he exits his dry cleaner, Cornelius notices that three doors down and across the street is a relatively-new martial arts studio... the sign in front of it reads 'JADE EMPRESS AIKIDO'. This was his second time seeing the building that day; of course, it's the same studio he was introduced to in spectacular fashion by a thirty-second spot during the morning news. Cornelius stuffs his dry cleaning into the Mothership's back seat, hanging it neatly on the one garment hook the Oldsmobile has managed to hang onto in its thirty years. He briefly checks his afro in his side-view mirror, then picks it for a moment. He probably doesn't even notice as he checks his breath fifteen paces from the dojo's front door. In fact, he probably doesn't notice a whole hell of a lot fifteen paces later once he gets through that door; the first taste Corndog gets of 'Jade Empress Aikido' is the image of the beautiful sensei training a group of seven or so adolescent neighborhood kids at an effective palm strike. She signals for one of the kids to attack her; she easily pushes away a limp-wristed palm strike, slapping the student playfully on the back of the head as if delivering a deathblow. Another student takes a turn; his palm strike is much better, but he gets cocky and tries to elbow-check the sensei (perhaps to prove his worth, or greatness... or just because he's a prick). Cornelius is finally knocked out of his stunned state, involuntarily laughing as the Sensei gives her attacker a wicked leg sweep and thumps his head against the gym matted floor.]
Angela: Alright, that's enough for today-
[The sensei notices the visitor standing in her school's foyer; she sizes him up, then seemingly ignores him and continues.]
Angela: -next class, Friday afternoon, 4:30! Don't be late, Philly. Paulie-
[She turns to the kid recovering from the swift introduction to the mat she'd just given.]
Angela: -your form has gotten a lot better, but your attitude still sucks. You're not here to learn violence, you're here to learn control.
[She helps the kid up; he mumbles a 'thanks Sensei' or something like it as he heads for the door. As the last kids leave, Cornelius finally approaches...]
Casanova: This takes me back, really...
Angela: It does, does it? You study aikido?
Casanova: Nah, not exactly. Brings me back to my youth, when ol' Pops got me hooked on kickboxing instead of letting me end up riff-raff out on the street. Old man didn't have no fight in him, but he saw I was too good with my feet to do nothin' and I wasn't fuckin' with no track team. You ever see me in running shorts, call the cops; somebody put a gun to my head, or some shit.
[Angela laughs slightly.]
Casanova: Cornelius.
[He offers a hand; the petite but dangerous sensei shakes his hand with a smile.]
Angela: Angela. Sensei Angela Chen. So what brings you into my world, Cornelius? You ready to learn?
[He smiles a sly smile.]
Casanova: I'm always ready for a lesson.
Angela: And you've had no martial arts training; other than your kickboxing experience.
Casanova: Bit of muy thai, bit of jiu jitsu... most of the grappling I picked up wrestling.
Angela: A wrestler? Like, a pro wrestler?
[She turns away, taking a few steps back. Cornelius makes a face as if displeased with himself; he huffs out of his mouth as if upset at the mention of his wrestling career.]
Angela: Eh, it'll do.
[She leads him onto the mats and stands about three feet away from the self-proclaimed 'Funkiest Brother Alive'...]
Angela: Alright, hit me as hard as you can!
[He wonders if he should make a Fight Club joke or not; instead, he just chuckles. He takes a swing and hits the mat, hard. He didn't even come close to hitting the lithe little minx.]
Casanova: Fuck, Tyler Durden ain't got shit on you-
[She giggles softly.]
Angela: Want to continue, or are we done here?
[Cornelius is up in a flash, soon trading kick for kick as if his life depended on it. She takes him down; he rolls her over and pins her to the mat. Their eyes linger; she pushes three fingers into his midsection, compressing his diaphragm.]
Angela: We should make this official. Are you free tomorrow for another lesson?
[Cornelius considers pushing the issue, but the wind being pushed out of him forces all the 'game' right out of him. He rolls off of the lovely young woman, catching himself in a crouch and popping up as if he were spring-loaded.]
Casanova: Tomorrow, huh? Yeah, alright. We can make that work.
[He begins to extend for another handshake, but stops himself. They bow to one another respectfully. As he turns to leave, Cornelius catches himself turning back to give the girl a wink; for a moment there, he's almost certain he caught that sexy thing peeping out his ass.]
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[Scene: Back in the Mothership. Polar looks utterly blown away at Cornelius' story...]
Phantasm: There's no fuckin' way you didn't go for it. She was- and you were- you were fuckin' on top of her man, and she was into you! And you're... you!
[Polar notices he's shaking bits out of the still unsealed joint- he stops persuing his line of reason long enough to seal up the joint.]
Casanova: It wasn't like with most girls... shit, it wasn't like with any girls. I could tell this one was special, that she was worth getting to know 'cause she might actually stick around. Dig?
[Polar hands Cornelius the finished product, motioning it toward the man as if to say 'you first, my man'.]
Phantasm: Agreed. You, uh, you might actually not get bored of this one!
[Cornelius laughs.]
Casanova: Say that then.
[Cornelius lights up the joint; as he takes a drag, Polar prods him for more of the story.]
Phantasm: So, you met the next day-
[Cornelius puts up a hand as if to say, "chill, motherfucker". He chokes out a bit of smoke, then inhales a bit more... eventually blowing out a hefty cloud. As he passes the joint to the Phantasm, Casanova clears his throat...]
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[Scene: three months later, Fleetwood, PA. Cornelius and Angela are both dressed in gi, Cornelius in the middle of an aikido class being taught by Angela; we cut to Cornelius and Angela having cheesesteaks in a diner.]
Casanova: Shit just kept snowballin' from there... she taught me martial arts, i taught her a lil' somethin' about wrestling. One night we'd go to dinner, then it was her sleepin' at my place...
[Cut to Cornelius and Angela lying in bed, embracing half-covered by sheets under his ceiling fan. Cut to the next morning; Cornelius again gets up, this time next to Angela. Morning rituals he's had for years have become slightly different; he brushes his teeth before heading down stairs, and he heads down the stairs quietly so not to wake his woman. He makes a pot of herbal tea; as he picks at some leftover chicken in the refridgerator, he looks over at a pile of boxes marked 'ANGELA'S LIVING ROOM'.]
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[Scene: Back in the Mothership. Polar laughs, trying to hold his amusement back.]
Phantasm: Cornelius Casanova, funkiest brother alive, has shacked up with a woman. Finally settled down. Oh god, what would your father say?!
[His laughter almost wakes Angela; Cornelius quiets him.]
Casanova: Yo man, chill that shit.
Phantasm: I'm sorry man, I'm just... really happy for you, but... shit, it's fuckin' amusing how life goes, ain't it? I figured by this time you'd be bitching at me for settling down and having a kid, yet here we are talking about your live-in girlfriend and aikido instructor.
Casanova: For real though; I'm happy, you know? I ain't been this happy since Pops died, Kid. I mean, without ol' Freddy Charles around shit got real boring... all my homies comin' up are either dead, in the game or in the pen. Plus, it's good to have you back around man- you're like my brother, you know?
[Phantasm hits the joint again, passing it to his good friend; they briefly fist bump as they make the exchange.]
Phantasm: Yeah you right.
Casanova: Now that I got Angela with me, plus you and Crystal and y'all baby on the scene... shit, it's like I got family again. Means a lot to me, bruh.
Phantasm: I heard that. We're your family man, for sure. No doubt. Thing is, you're in the WCF family now... it's a weird incestuous little circle of reality that makes very little sense at times, but you gotta live with it. It's family. We have our fights, we have our celebrations... at the end of the day, we got each other.
[The Mothership turns onto a familiar street; Polar looks in wonder out the window, thinking he's seen this neighborhood before.]
Phantasm: We gotta be close to your place by now.
[They pull into a driveway; Polar laughs, recognizing the house. It hasn't changed a bit; it's like Cornelius is living in a shrine to his late father 'Ready' Freddy Charles. Cornelius tries to wake up Angela as Polar stretches; Angela feigns paralysis, teasing Cornelius into carrying her into the house. Polar smiles and shakes his head, remembering how he and Crystal were when the Pantheon first formed, before her kidnapping. Then he just plain old misses his wife and son. Cornelius looks back from the front porch...]
Casanova: Hey man, come on in when you ready.
[Polar notices his drift toward melancholy; he shrugs.]
Phantasm: My bad.
[Polar follows Cornelius and Angela inside. The door shuts... the porch light goes off.]
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[Scene: Charles Residence, next morning. Cornelius wakes up next to Angela; we see him go through his morning ritual. He heads down the stairs, noticing that Polar is already awake... and heading out the door - before 9 AM - carrying a bottle of Patron and two glasses.]
Casanova: Where you goin', man? It ain't even breakfast yet!
[From outside, we hear a car's horn. Halfway out the door, Phantasm hastily explains.]
Phantasm: Sorry man, my cab is here and I've got someplace I gotta visit. See you in a few, alright? We got plans to discuss.
[Before Cornelius can respond, we see Polar head through the dooryard and climb in back of the cab; he directs the cabby to the WCF Arena, and the cab speeds away. Cut to the front of the WCF Arena building; the front door is locked, but Polar pulls an old keychain out of his pocket and jingles it a bit trying to find the right key (without dropping his goodies).]
Phantasm: Thanks again, janitors. I forgot how many friends I made in my time here...
[We see the Phantasm cautiously ease his way through the arena doors, glass carefully in hand. Cut to the inside of the building; Polar walks down a hallway past two crew members pushing a cart. He nods to them. One of the crew just looks shocked; another shouts to him.]
Crew: You really back?
[Polar doesn't respond. He ducks into a nearby stairwell; cut to the roof of the WCF Arena, where we see the Phantasm come through the strairway door with a suspicious look about him. He walks over to a flat spot on the roof, with a few ducts merging and forming an almost table-like structure of ductwork... he places the glasses, pouring two very heavy belts of tequila. He closes his eyes for a second; before he can open them, Polar hears a familiar voice.]
Voice: To what are we toasting?
[Polar opens his eyes and looks across the duct-table at Bobby Cairo; good old Uncle Bobby. Polar lifts his glass, tilting towards Cairo.]
Phantasm: Whatever the hell you wanna toast, old man. It's just good to see you.
Cairo: How'd you know I'd be here?
[Polar smiles at his suspicious old friend, spectral as he may be.]
Phantasm: Easy. It's where I'd haunt, too, you know.
[They sip their beverage in silence, Polar smiling.]
Cairo: So what do you wanna talk about, Kid?
[Polar shrugs nonchalantly.]
Phantasm: Nothing yet, per se. I just missed my Uncle Bobby.
[With that, Cairo smiles. He may have died in a volcano, but even the afterlife seems unable to dampen the spirits of the Godfather... and his shining countenance appears to be charging his young former protege's spiritual batteries.]
Cairo: Just make me one promise, Kid-
Phantasm: Anything, Uncle Bobby.
[With a serious look, Cairo stares into Phantasm's soul.]
Cairo: No matter what, you make damn sure you keep WCF weird.
[With a massive belt of tequila (and a subsequent tequila wince, trebled in intensity by the shining of the mid-morning sun), Phantasm gives his ghastly advisor his most serious and committed stare.]
Phantasm: Bobby...
[Polar laughs a bit.]
Phantasm: You know, I really don't know how the fuck to do anything else.
[They both laugh and sip their beverages as the city of Reading goes about its business beneath them, blissfully unaware of just what has come home to roost.]
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[(c) Wrestling Championship Federation 2016. The views of the Polar Phantasm and Cornelius Casanova are not those of WCF or any of its sponsors or affiliates. All rights reserved.]
