Post by Nate Nytro on Jul 2, 2006 4:14:35 GMT -5
(We are located at a bar in some location unspecified. We are immediately put in plain sight of Nate Nytro and Richard Cunnings, looking at them from the inside of the bar. Rich’s mouth is at full speed on his cell phone, almost burning a hole into the shoulder of his purple velvet jacket. Nate sits perched beside him, in his casual black attire, calmly sipping a drink.)
Richard Cunnings: No sir, I understand…well you’ll be happy to know he’s been training hard.
(Nate Nytro smiles mid gulp, and continues to drink.)
Richard Cunnings: Yes, actually, he’s been making some excellent progress…no, I promise you, he will be there tomorrow in peak condition or my name isn’t……no, sir, I suppose it…doesn’t matter what my name is…
(Richard contorts his face into a look of confusion directed at Nate. Nate just shrugs - a grin across his face.)
Richard Cunnings: Alright…yes, you two, Mr. Logan…good evening.
(Richard disconnects the call and tucks the cell phone away in his velvet coat pocket. He then waves to the bartender.)
Richard Cunnings: Another scotch, please.
Nate Nytro: You know, you’re gonna develop a tumor from the amount of time you spend on that thing.
Richard Cunnings: With you, it’s unavoidable. It has become my life’s work - Making sure your boss is happy, taking care of your business; Lying for you.
Nate Nytro: And maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I think you’re a terrific guy at what you do.
Richard Cunnings: Please, enough flattering; I may blush.
Nate Nytro: That may be the alcohol.
Richard Cunnings: Oh yes, and may I add…drinking the night before a show?…a testament to the professional athlete. It is this “ingenious” strategy that has you hanging by the bottom rung of WCF’s food chain. Maybe you should write a book, get some kids sucked into your tainted ideals.
(Nate Nytro chuckles to himself and looks straight into the camera.)
Nate Nytro: I am not a role model for your children, ladies and gentlemen.
Richard Cunnings: Your career’s on a downward spiral, pal. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take you to see that.
Nate Nytro: Maybe it’s YOU who needs to look at this in a more positive light.
Richard Cunnings: Why, what a capitol idea…name one thing positive about your time here in WCF these last few months. What have I missed while feverishly running to your beck and call, neglecting my wife and daughter at home for YOUR sake that was a landmark in your career?
Nate Nytro: …well…uh…OH. Last week –
(Richard hoots sarcastically.)
Richard Cunnings: Oh yes, last week. What a display. I must be blind. Where were my eyes? And further more, where’s my scotch?
(Richard slams the countertop, resulting in a tremor that bounces the glasses around. Fortunately none spill, but several neighbors give them stern looks before returning to their drunken ranting amongst friends they’ve never met before.)
Nate Nytro: Well if I recall correctly…and I do…I kept my job last week.
Richard Cunnings: Your opponent was Matthew Draven.
Nate Nytro: So?
Richard Cunnings: That man couldn’t find his way out of bed sheets in the morning, let alone hold his own in a wrestling ring. He got what was coming to him, he’s gone. But that’s not enough anymore. You can’t just get by through wins. You’re a low carder now, has it not clicked with you yet?
(Nate’s eyes dull down and the smile leaves his face as he finishes his drink in silence, listening to Rich.)
Richard Cunnings: You’ll never get a title shot with this kind of effort. Logan has no desire to put one of the WCF’s belts around the waist of a man who can barely win matches anymore. And I don’t know what compelled you to undergo your latest endeavor, but you’re a part of a faction now. You have two team members to support; two CHAMPION team members, mind you, that have, through some lapse of better judgment, put their faith in you to aid them in this “conquest of WCF and the obliteration of the noobs” or something like that, I don’t know. Have you even spoken to them recently?
Nate Nytro: I went to see some kind of derby with CD a few weeks back, but other than that, nothing to notable to commit to memory.
Richard Cunnings: So see? How long do you think they’ll tolerate this insubordination before they pull the plug? Another month? Maybe less? At the level you are at, you are easily replaceable.
Nate Nytro: Yeah? By who? WCF is overrun with newcomers; the kind of wrestlers they’re against. Torture and Death wouldn’t sacrifice their beliefs to fill a hole.
(Nate begins to swig his drink, which is down to its last few gulps.)
Richard Cunnings: Well maybe they’d enlist the help of Road Rage and Burn Out…or Twister, perhaps.
(Nate stops inhaling the alcohol, the liquid flowing against his closed lips like ocean water on a dock. He slowly lowers the glass and looks at Richard.)
Nate Nytro: Twister?
Richard Cunnings: Yes. Apparently he just signed a new contract with WCF. Has yet to see action, but, he’s here. You know him?
Nate Nytro: You might say that…I was under the impression he was finished…through, retired.
Richard Cunnings: Funny thing about retirement in professional wrestling…you can just never seem to let it go.
Nate Nytro: I suppose…
(Nate drops money on the counter.)
Nate Nytro: Ah fuck it, I’ll get around to cleaning this all up eventually. I'm bound to get a break sooner or later.
(Nate begins to rise out of his seat, but Rich puts a hand on his forearm, encouraging him to reseat himself.)
Richard Cunnings: Nate…what are you doing? I can’t remember a night now we haven’t been at a bar, when we could be out performing public appearances or training or looking to turn this sham of a career around. I think you’re a good guy, Nate, but I won’t think twice about leaving when the money stops feeding me. I’ve watched your past promos, I’ve seen your older matches…you have the ability to make more of yourself, you just choose not to. Life is about choices, Nate, and whether you can see it immediately or not, I can assure you, this choice of abstinence leads no where good. But fine…don’t attempt to reassemble any pathetic piece of what you call “your life”. We’ll just keep doing what we always do; we’ll watch. We’ll just watch as your fan base is reduced to a miniscule handful of laughable status, as you partners disown you due to your lack of effort, as rookie after rookie walks over you time and time again, as WCF eventually finds you a waste of financial coverage and puts you out on the street where you will slowly wither away. You’ll keep drinking and avoiding contact with the world, and I’ll just keep covering for you while drawing nearer and nearer to a brain hemorrhage, from the stress, and from this STUPID CELL PHONE!!!
(Nate is in utter emotional destitute. He just glares at Rich. Rich surrenders his fighting spirit, and dresses himself up in a smile and a chortle.)
Richard Cunnings: Oh, don’t worry; It ain't all that bad.
(He takes a big swig of his beverage, finishing it all, and slams the glass on the counter.)
Richard Cunnings: Scotch can bring the biggest smile to a face.
(Rich and Nate walk out of the bar, the camera glued to the glass as our companions blur away into obscurity.)
Richard Cunnings: No sir, I understand…well you’ll be happy to know he’s been training hard.
(Nate Nytro smiles mid gulp, and continues to drink.)
Richard Cunnings: Yes, actually, he’s been making some excellent progress…no, I promise you, he will be there tomorrow in peak condition or my name isn’t……no, sir, I suppose it…doesn’t matter what my name is…
(Richard contorts his face into a look of confusion directed at Nate. Nate just shrugs - a grin across his face.)
Richard Cunnings: Alright…yes, you two, Mr. Logan…good evening.
(Richard disconnects the call and tucks the cell phone away in his velvet coat pocket. He then waves to the bartender.)
Richard Cunnings: Another scotch, please.
Nate Nytro: You know, you’re gonna develop a tumor from the amount of time you spend on that thing.
Richard Cunnings: With you, it’s unavoidable. It has become my life’s work - Making sure your boss is happy, taking care of your business; Lying for you.
Nate Nytro: And maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I think you’re a terrific guy at what you do.
Richard Cunnings: Please, enough flattering; I may blush.
Nate Nytro: That may be the alcohol.
Richard Cunnings: Oh yes, and may I add…drinking the night before a show?…a testament to the professional athlete. It is this “ingenious” strategy that has you hanging by the bottom rung of WCF’s food chain. Maybe you should write a book, get some kids sucked into your tainted ideals.
(Nate Nytro chuckles to himself and looks straight into the camera.)
Nate Nytro: I am not a role model for your children, ladies and gentlemen.
Richard Cunnings: Your career’s on a downward spiral, pal. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take you to see that.
Nate Nytro: Maybe it’s YOU who needs to look at this in a more positive light.
Richard Cunnings: Why, what a capitol idea…name one thing positive about your time here in WCF these last few months. What have I missed while feverishly running to your beck and call, neglecting my wife and daughter at home for YOUR sake that was a landmark in your career?
Nate Nytro: …well…uh…OH. Last week –
(Richard hoots sarcastically.)
Richard Cunnings: Oh yes, last week. What a display. I must be blind. Where were my eyes? And further more, where’s my scotch?
(Richard slams the countertop, resulting in a tremor that bounces the glasses around. Fortunately none spill, but several neighbors give them stern looks before returning to their drunken ranting amongst friends they’ve never met before.)
Nate Nytro: Well if I recall correctly…and I do…I kept my job last week.
Richard Cunnings: Your opponent was Matthew Draven.
Nate Nytro: So?
Richard Cunnings: That man couldn’t find his way out of bed sheets in the morning, let alone hold his own in a wrestling ring. He got what was coming to him, he’s gone. But that’s not enough anymore. You can’t just get by through wins. You’re a low carder now, has it not clicked with you yet?
(Nate’s eyes dull down and the smile leaves his face as he finishes his drink in silence, listening to Rich.)
Richard Cunnings: You’ll never get a title shot with this kind of effort. Logan has no desire to put one of the WCF’s belts around the waist of a man who can barely win matches anymore. And I don’t know what compelled you to undergo your latest endeavor, but you’re a part of a faction now. You have two team members to support; two CHAMPION team members, mind you, that have, through some lapse of better judgment, put their faith in you to aid them in this “conquest of WCF and the obliteration of the noobs” or something like that, I don’t know. Have you even spoken to them recently?
Nate Nytro: I went to see some kind of derby with CD a few weeks back, but other than that, nothing to notable to commit to memory.
Richard Cunnings: So see? How long do you think they’ll tolerate this insubordination before they pull the plug? Another month? Maybe less? At the level you are at, you are easily replaceable.
Nate Nytro: Yeah? By who? WCF is overrun with newcomers; the kind of wrestlers they’re against. Torture and Death wouldn’t sacrifice their beliefs to fill a hole.
(Nate begins to swig his drink, which is down to its last few gulps.)
Richard Cunnings: Well maybe they’d enlist the help of Road Rage and Burn Out…or Twister, perhaps.
(Nate stops inhaling the alcohol, the liquid flowing against his closed lips like ocean water on a dock. He slowly lowers the glass and looks at Richard.)
Nate Nytro: Twister?
Richard Cunnings: Yes. Apparently he just signed a new contract with WCF. Has yet to see action, but, he’s here. You know him?
Nate Nytro: You might say that…I was under the impression he was finished…through, retired.
Richard Cunnings: Funny thing about retirement in professional wrestling…you can just never seem to let it go.
Nate Nytro: I suppose…
(Nate drops money on the counter.)
Nate Nytro: Ah fuck it, I’ll get around to cleaning this all up eventually. I'm bound to get a break sooner or later.
(Nate begins to rise out of his seat, but Rich puts a hand on his forearm, encouraging him to reseat himself.)
Richard Cunnings: Nate…what are you doing? I can’t remember a night now we haven’t been at a bar, when we could be out performing public appearances or training or looking to turn this sham of a career around. I think you’re a good guy, Nate, but I won’t think twice about leaving when the money stops feeding me. I’ve watched your past promos, I’ve seen your older matches…you have the ability to make more of yourself, you just choose not to. Life is about choices, Nate, and whether you can see it immediately or not, I can assure you, this choice of abstinence leads no where good. But fine…don’t attempt to reassemble any pathetic piece of what you call “your life”. We’ll just keep doing what we always do; we’ll watch. We’ll just watch as your fan base is reduced to a miniscule handful of laughable status, as you partners disown you due to your lack of effort, as rookie after rookie walks over you time and time again, as WCF eventually finds you a waste of financial coverage and puts you out on the street where you will slowly wither away. You’ll keep drinking and avoiding contact with the world, and I’ll just keep covering for you while drawing nearer and nearer to a brain hemorrhage, from the stress, and from this STUPID CELL PHONE!!!
(Nate is in utter emotional destitute. He just glares at Rich. Rich surrenders his fighting spirit, and dresses himself up in a smile and a chortle.)
Richard Cunnings: Oh, don’t worry; It ain't all that bad.
(He takes a big swig of his beverage, finishing it all, and slams the glass on the counter.)
Richard Cunnings: Scotch can bring the biggest smile to a face.
(Rich and Nate walk out of the bar, the camera glued to the glass as our companions blur away into obscurity.)
