A Twist In The Myth (Part 1)
-------------------------------------------------------
[Location: High Desert Brewing Company - Las Cruces, New Mexico]
[Las Cruces is a beautiful city at dusk. The city becomes alive with activity and something to affect all five of the senses. At a street corner, a man is seen roasting green and red chiles for consumers. A street musician is playing local ballads for the spare change of passers-by. Near the end of the street is a small brown building with Christmas lights strewn across a front patio filled with patrons and a light haze of cigarette smoke. The sign hanging above reads "High Desert Brewing Company: Our Beers Don't Suck!". The radio is stuck on 60's classics, giving the environment a bit of a lackadaisical vibe. In the corner of the patio, a couple sits, enjoying two large mugs of Imperial Stout and a basket of french fries. The man raises his mug to his lady.]
Malcolm: Happy Birthday m'lady. And to many more.
[She smiles brightly at him.]
Carrie: Thank you, Malcolm. This past year has been wonderful, and I look forward to many more with you.
Malcolm: I wouldn't have it any other way.
[Malcolm takes Kari's hand in his.]
Malcolm: You have been a cornerstone in my life for a very long time now. Ever since WFW closed it's doors, I have been floating from job to job, city to city, and you have always been there, waiting for me.
[Kari caresses Malcolm's hand.]
Carrie: You are worth it. You may be gone for days on end, but you have been there for me when I was at my lowest, and I can't deny you the same. Every day you are gone hurts, but when you return, the pain goes away.
[Malcolm's face turns from warmth to doubt as he withdraws his hands from her.]
Malcolm: Y'know, I always pick the best days to ruin, don't I?
Carrie: What are you talking about?
[Malcolm reaches into his pocket, and pulls out an envelope. He lays it on the table, and Kari hesitantly picks it up. She removes the letter from the envelope, and begins to read.]
Carrie: ...you're going away.
Malcolm: Yes, overseas.
[He leans close to Kari, trying to stare her in the eyes, but it was always difficult for him. Her eyes would go from a beautiful amber to a fiery red at the drop of a hat when she was upset. He looks up at her, and notices her eyes glowing with a rage he has never seen. He tries to comfort her with more words.]
Malcolm: This is my shot at redemption, Carrie. I've always been a small footnote everywhere I've been. I'm tired of not being remembered for the great things I've done in professional wrestling. Every day that goes by is another day I've failed. I will never get the recognition I deserve unless I do this.
[Kari looks away, a tear developing in her eye. She tosses the letter and envelope on the table.]
Carrie: So what you are telling me is that for the past three years, you have been using me as a crutch until you got your big shot at the spotlight again?
Malcolm: No, that's not it at all. You came into my life at a time when I was at my lowest. Now, I have an opportunity to right all the wrongs, and cement a legacy that will last forever. Isn't that what you've always wanted? Me, happy?
Carrie: I have NEVER stood in the way of your success. And I'm hurt that you would even suggest that!
[Malcolm rests his head in his hands.]
Malcolm: I'm not suggesting that. What I'm telling you-- wait. What I am asking you is to deal with this one more time. This could be the one. And, if it is, the two of us will be set! I can finally give you the life you deserve.
[Kari stands up in a rage.]
Carrie: You asshole! You think I waste sleepless nights on you in the hope that I'll be able to live the life of a socialite?! I do it because I love you, and I know you are a good soul! But lately, I've noticed that the side of you that I fell in love with has been overshadowed by this man you've become.
Malcolm: Please sit down.
Carrie: No, Malcolm. It's about time you lost something, or someone, for what you loved, because I've lost enough. You have to decide: Either forget this foolish dream of becoming a superstar..
[Kari reaches for her bag.]
Carrie: ..or don't.
[Malcolm reaches for the letter and envelope on the table and stands. He seems to be struggling with the answer, then grips the letter in his hands tightly. He can't bring himself to look into her amber eyes.]
Malcolm: I'm sorry, Carrie.
[Malcolm puts the letter in his pocket and walks around her, leaving her alone as "Blackbird" by The Beatles quietly begins to play through the speakers.}
Hey...
[Malcolm turns.]
HEY!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Location: Interstate 10 - En Route to Upham, New Mexico - October 18th, 2011]
Barajas: Will you wake your ass up?!
[Max slowly opens his eyes, taking in as little of the New Mexico sun that he can. The tolls of the match with Sean McBride show as he stretches and reaches for his sunglasses.]
Max: Where are we?
Barajas: About 20 miles outside of Upham, no thanks to you. Three hours on I-10, and all you did was sleep! This whole road trip thing was your idea, yet I'm the one stuck listening to the Tuesday Tribute to Fiona Apple. I didn't know she had enough songs to fill a full hour.
Max: I thought the drive would be good. Can't forget where we came from after all. And let's remember, it was your idea to go to this damn thing.
Barajas: New Mexico is your home now, Max. You have to support local causes. Besides, this thing is huge! The beginning of commercial space travel.
Max: Don't let me interrupt your joygasm. Just wake me up before we get there, alright?
[Max crosses his arms and tries to go back to sleep as Barajas continues.]
Barajas: Space travel...think of it! With the mere swipe of a credit card or, in my case, cashing in on the millions your ass is going to make me, one can fly with the angels. Max!
[Barajas grabs Max by the shoulder, nearly ramming his head through the window from the surprise.]
Max: What?!
[Barajas takes his hand off of Max's shoulder, and softly places it on the steering wheel. He continues, his voice calm and quiet.]
Barajas: I want to be the first drunk man in space.
Max: If there is a bar in space, I'm sure you'll find it Barajas.
Barajas: Oh no, I'd have to be drunk before-hand.
Max: I didn't know you were afraid of flying.
Barajas: I'm not. I'm afraid of flying to space.
[Max and Barajas share a laugh.]
Barajas: Anyways, all you have to do after the dedication is sign a few autographs, take a few pictures, and we'll call it good.
Max: I've never been a big fan of these things.
Barajas: Oh look at you! Prettiest girl at the ball and you're having a lip-hang. Suck it up, Champ. Not everyone is pined after. Besides, this is a step in the right direction. Just don't wear the mask, man. There are going to be kids here and that thing smells like it came out of an Eli Roth movie.
Max: ...fair enough.
[Scene fades]
--3 Hours Later--
[Outside SpacePort America, Barajas is waiting for Max to finish up his autograph session. He stopped attending them when people started asking for only Maximum Violence. As he waits, he is approached by a female fan. Her hair is brown and cut to look like that of an elven warrior. Her face is beautiful, yet weathered. She is short, yet muscular. Barajas gives her a once-over.]
Barajas: If you are looking for the autograph signing, its still going on inside.
[He checks his watch.]
Barajas: You may still have enough ti--
Fan: I'm not here to see him. I'm here to see you.
[Barajas looks stunned.]
Barajas: Me? What are you talking about?
[She hands him a phone of Barajas from his old wrestling days in WFW. He takes the photo and stares at it for what seems like an eternity. He looks up from the photo.]
Barajas: Where did you get this?
Fan: I have an extensive collection of WFW memorabilia. When I heard Maximum Violence was coming to town, I was hoping you would be along as well. I have a lot of The Big MV's autographs, but none of you.
Barajas: Damn, it has been a long time since I've run into a die-hard WFW fan. How extensive is your collection?
Fan: Deeper than you think.
[She hands him a silver sharpie.]
Fan: Can I have your autograph?
[Barajas smiles and takes the marker.]
Barajas: Absolutely. I'm quite flattered, actually. What's your name?
Fan: Morrigan.
[Barajas begins to sign the picture, but stops suddenly. He looks down at the ground, past the picture. She is wearing black sandals, but that isn't what he sees. He focuses on the small tattoo on her right foot: A small clover. Feeling her eyes burning a hole into him, he continues signing the photo.]
Barajas: So where are you from Morrigan?
Morrigan: I'm from the area, but not anymore. I moved to Texas a few years ago to pursue my passion.
Barajas: Really? What passion is that?
[He hands her back the photo and marker.]
Morrigan: Hunting.
[Barajas looks up, but can't see past her sunglasses. It's almost as if he didn't notice them before.]
Barajas: What do you hunt in Texas?
Morrigan: Wild hogs.
Barajas: Right. I've watched those shows about hunting feral hogs. Is it really that dangerous?
[She laughs, but not in jest. Her laugh is filled with pride.]
Morrigan: I've been gored once. Suffered a punctured lung and a few broken ribs, but I survived.
Barajas: Yikes.
[Barajas begins to look around.]
Barajas: Well, the signing is about to wrap up, I had better get inside. It was nice meeting you Morrigan.
[He extends a hand and she takes it. Her hands are rough, and her hand shake surprisingly firm. She hold onto the grip a bit longer than a usual handshake, and lets go.]
Morrigan: Good to see you still kicking around. Peace.
[Morrigan turns and leaves. Mere seconds later, Max steps out the front doors of the Spaceport and walks up to Barajas.]
Max: Alright, I gotta admit...that wasn't bad. I got to put Sir Richard Branson in a headlock! I've always wanted the opportunity to choke out a billionaire.
[He notices the woman walking away in the distance.]
Max: Who's that?
[Barajas takes a moment before he answers.]
Barajas: Just an old fan..
Max: Old fan? I didn't see her inside for the autograph thing. Hey!
[Max brings his hands up to his mouth.]
Max: Hey!! You want my autograph too?
[The woman stops, and begins to slowly turn her head. Suddenly, she stops and continues to walk down the parking lot to what is only open desert for 20 miles.]
Max: Well, that was weird.
[Max pats Barajas on the shoulder.]
Max: Never trust the short ones, that's what I always say.
[Barajas laughs.]
Barajas: Might have to agree with you on that one.
Max: C'mon. We have a long drive to Omaha ahead of us.
Barajas: We? You can drive yourself there, Max. My happy ass is flying to Omaha.
Max: I thought you were a team player, man! I did the signing, so we go to Omaha my way, and that's the way of the road. You're going to love my collection of old time radio dramas. Ever heard The Whistler?
Barajas: Damn, you can be real boring sometimes Max.
Max: But I could murder you where you stand.
Barajas: Legitimately scary. Alright, WE will drive to Omaha.
[The scene fades as the two bicker over who is going to drive the first stretch of their journey.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Location: The Parking Garage Of The Qwest Center - Omaha, Nebraska - Thursday, October 27th, 2011]
[The lights in the garage are rapidly flickering on and off, as if there is a short in the system. A few cars are parked her, most owned by MWA staff. Footsteps can be heard echoing through the concrete.]
Max: I am the Whistler, and I know many things, for I walk by night...
[The lights flicker again, and Max is seen standing in the middle of the parking garage. He is wearing a tan raincoat.]
Max: I know many strange tales...
{Again, the lights flicker, and Max is now sitting on the rear of a vehicle.]
Max: ...hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows.
{The lights fade to black, then slowly return. Maximum Violence is nowhere to be found.]
Max: Yes... I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.
[The combination of footsteps and dragging metal fill the air as Maximum Violence appears, his back to the camera, walking down the aisle. He is dragging a steel folding chair with him. He stops, and unfolds the chair. Facing the camera, Max sits and rests his elbows on his legs, rubbing his hands together menacingly.]
Max: It has indeed been a long time since I have felt this way. The adrenaline of another hard fought victory. And, I proved to everyone that Sean McBride is, and will continue to be, nothing more than a relic of a time long since forgotten. I hope that, after his shoulder heals up, that he sticks to enjoying MWA in the comfort of his beautiful home in St. Louis. Of course, if he ever decides to stick his nose in my business ever again, I'm not a hard person to find. Funny that his run at a Triple Crown has been thwarted by someone he had always deemed a "loser". The past has a funny way of coming up behind you and making you look like a god-damn fool in front of the world. You stay in your little world with Patrick, McBride. Don't even consider trying to enter my realm again, or I will do more than separate your shoulder, I will put you on the shelf.
[He relaxes his body for a moment, and places his hands behind his head.]
Max: Do you remember me now, world? Do you remember Maximum Violence? That's right, all you needed was a strong reminder, and I gave it to you. Every single MWA competitor has been officially put on notice. This is no "flash in the pan" moment for this organization. I am for real, and I am going to be here for a very long time. The writing is on the wall for all of you. Sean McBride was a big win in The Campain, but in the big picture, he is bus fare. Just like Matthew Bowden, Sean McBride will fade into the vapor. Anyone seen Matthew Bowden lately? That's right, no. The weak shall be weeded out, and the honor restored.
[Max unties the rain coat and reaches inside. He pulls out his mask, and tosses it to the ground.]
Max: I love that thing. I feel like when I put it on, it engages the warrior within. I have fought many battles with that mask as my battle armor, and it has struck fear into the hearts of my opponents. But you, Tilmaio, wear a mask of your own, don't you? I always thought mine was scary and evil, but yours is pretty intimidating. I mean, I don't know how you eat with that thing on, and your peripheral vision must be terrible, but you will definitely be getting two candy bars from me instead of one when you come to the Maximum Violence househould. I'm sure your costume has won many a contest in the local malls, but the only effect your outfit is going to have this Monday is hiding the bruises.
[Max stands up, and begins to walk around the chair.]
Max: After all, that's all that thing is, Tilmaio...a costume. All you are is that sad misunderstood child in the back of the classroom. You just didn't get enough love when you were young, right? Well welcome to the real world, pal. You don't get everything you need in this life, and nothing is ever perfect. You wear your mask to hide your ugliness from the world. You may sell that line of bullshit to the world, but I know the truth. You wear that mask because no one believes that a tall, typical looking male model can be sad and scary. Now, what you and I agree on is the ugliness found inside the hearts of man. We all have a bit of ugliness inside us, don't we? You think you know anything about betrayal and deception? I just destroyed a man whom I thought would always be a friend to me in this business. That is what leaves a man scarred on the inside. You say you know pain all too well, but you know nothing of true pain.
[He stops circling the chair and begins to stair to the ceiling.]
Max: But you are going to learn this Monday. And you are lucky, too. Because you are going to have one hell of a teacher. I have been praised for my methods. Ask around, my methods are quite effective. You might want to leave your little lady in the back.
[Max begins to laugh, and closes his eyes, leaving his head cocked back.]
Max: I don't know why everyone does that. They have to surround themselves with a woman. When will you all learn that a woman will only bring your grief, and destroy what little faith you had in the sex. You idiots always have to learn the hard way. In the only friendly advice I will give to you Tilmaio: Leave the bitch behind, they are nothing but trouble.
[Max places his hands on the back of the steel chair.]
Max: You're not really on a win streak, are you bud? Pinex, Lohan, Talbot, Jones, I'm sure it's been tough. What makes you think I am going to be any different? The violence I will bring to you will be the likes of which you have never experienced. Those previous battles will seem like Heaven compared to the Hell I bring with me to BattleZone. You have proven to me that you are not worthy to battle in my arena, and you must be erased from the MWA. You're going to be in some good company Tilmaio, Sean McBride is quite a talker. You will not continue in this tournament. This has been six years in the making, and Maximum Violence isn't about to be stopped by someone like you. You aren't going to beat me, Tilmaio. There is nothing you can do, short of not showing up, that will stop me from destroying you and moving on to the semi-finals.
[Max throws the chair aside.]
Max: The ghost train is coming, kiddies....listen to it scream...Believe That.
[The lights go black, and stay black for a few seconds. Then, they come back on to reveal Maximum Violence gone and so is his mask.]
Max: It's Halloween....everyone is entitled to one good scare...
[The lights go black for the final time.]