Post by Dionysus on Oct 30, 2016 17:04:16 GMT -5
The scene opens up to a jazz club in downtown Minneapolis in the middle of the night. A small jazz combo is playing onstage, while a group danced around the hardwood floor. Other patrons were looking on from the bar, through a light haze of smoke. The frontman of this combo, a middle-aged man on guitar, was in the process of finishing up a set. The crowd clapped and cheered lightly, as the man grabbed the microphone on stage.
“Thank you very much,” he said in a smooth tenor. “My name is Benny Jones, and this is the Nice Guy Combo. You’re all too kind,” he said with a smile. The crowd clapped more, as he peered out through the crowd. His eye caught a man with red hair and a wild beard. The man in the crowd nodded in recognition, and Benny nodded in kind. He turned back to his microphone. “I’m going to take a quick break...but in the meantime, listen to the smooth sounds of the Nice Guy Combo.”
Benjamin set his guitar on the stand next to him while his combo began playing again. He walked to a back room, where a table and two chairs are set up. Benjamin turned around to see Dion Necurat, arms outstretched. “You old goat, you don’t look a day over 40!,” Dion said.
“And you look...well, you look like hell,” Benny said with a straight face. He then laughed, embracing Dion. “How have you been? You know I worry about you and your family.” He gestured toward the table, where both men took a seat. A bottle of brandy was waiting on the table, and Benny poured a drink for himself.
“Well there isn’t much worry these days,” Dion replied, taking the bottle next. “Unless you count...well, the finances.”
Benny gave Dion an inquisitive look. “Now don’t hold back with me,” he said sternly. “You know you’re like family to me. Hell, I think of you as a son. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” Benny sat back, listening intently, as Dion recounted the story of how Albert Divine held him under a vice-like grip with his debt. Dion then talked about The Necurat Foundation, and how he would use it to get out of his financial trouble. Benny nodded his head. “I see...that’s a smart play. He may control your gym, but he can’t control where you donate money to.”
Dion took a sip from his glass. “Exactly. The only problem would be if I can’t win. Then he may come after me, or worse, mother.”
Benny rubbed his head. “Yeah...that is a bit of a problem…”
Dion looked around the room, making sure no one was listening in. “I won’t go through with any of his plans, obviously,” he said, “but I’m still worried that mother is at risk. I am working to prepare myself for such an occasion.”
Benny shook his head. “No, Dee, listen,” he said sternly, standing up. “How many times have I told you? If you have any problems, you come to me. What have you done, hmm?”
Dion was about to answer, then sputtered and looked down sheepishly. “I...didn’t come to you first.”
Benny nodded, but smiled. “Exactly,” he replied. “Now, did you bring the paperwork?”
Dion gave Benny a folder to look over. “That should have the paperwork. If you could look that over and tell me what you think, that would be great.”
Benny clapped him on the shoulder. “Anything for my favorite wrestler,” he exclaimed. “Now, you have a match to win. I’ll be in the stands, of course. And you make sure to win, you hear me?”
Dion grimaced. “Me? Lose to Smarts, the laziest wrestler on the roster? Please.”
Both Benny and Dion laughed, finishing their drinks. Benny looked at his watch. “Oh boy, my set is coming up again. Listen, anything else you need, let me know.” With that, Benny stood up, shook Dion’s hand, and walked back to the stage. Dion followed after, watching his long-time family friend play into the wee small hours of the morning.
