Counting Bodies Like Sheep

[Kurt]

Counting Bodies Like Sheep...

Tuesday, January 8th, 2012
8:45 AM

“Get your Goddamn hands off of me!”

Teeth are barred, fists are clenched, and the night-sticks are ready to play as Noble writhes against the uniformed men pinning him down against a desserts-table. Various suits and other name-less faces watch on, like children prepping to yell “FIGHT! SIGHT! FIGHT!” in a school-yard, as the APW Megastar begins to push off the table; however, the four men holding him annihilate that option.

“I’m calling the cops on you ANIMALS!” yells a crimson-faced, wolf-like Kylie Demens as she uses her hand-purse to combat an elderly guard; however, her efforts fall short as well.

“I hope you enjoy your Goddamn shins!” Noble booms out as the men lift him up, practically dragging him towards an exit. “And your health, and your friends, and everyone you love, because one day, some assholes with mall cop certificates try and take it ALL away from you!”

“That’s nice, Mr. Noble,” grumbles the eldest gentlemen that found himself victim of Kylie Demens’s “assault.”

“Lawyers! I’m calling the lawyers!” Kylie snaps as she lifts her cell-phone to her ear.

“Ma’m, we really need you to calm down-“ Another officer lightly touches her hand…and is rewarded with a shriek.

“ASSAULT! THEY’RE ASSAULTING ME!” she screams, causing yet another panic as Noble lunges towards her safety! He’s retrained yet again. Amongst the chaos, a single voice rings true.

“ENOUGH!”

Every pair of eyes in the room snaps towards the top of the stairs, where the man of the hour stands: APW’s President and CEO, “Hurricane” Jeff. His expression very well matches that of a hurricane, with a jutting snarl and a quivering facial muscles.

“MY OFFICE…

“NOW!”

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“It’s simple: You’re going to give me Chris Hart, or else.”

Jeff’s faces remains stone-filled as Noble’s eyes remain irritated, attentive, and above all else, unwavering when faced against Jeff’s. Neither man fidgets in their satin-red office chairs, isolated from the rest of the world in Jeff’s plane-glass office.

“Let me get this straight Kurt,” Jeff says as his eyes loop down towards a file before him. “You came here, to APW’s base of operations, without an invitation or scheduled meeting, violently break in, are detained, causing yet another Kurt Noble-media-fan-frenzy, and are now demanding a match with a suspended wrestler…or else? Am I getting this correctly?”

Kylie Demens pips up from a chair in the back, far removed from the two speakers. “If you hadn’t insulted us be refusing an initial meeting, and then spitting on us by offering us Adrien Specter instead, there wouldn’t be a-“

“I’m not talking to you, Ms. Demens,” Jeff fires back, his tone calm, yet fiercely rigid. “I’m talking to APW’s newest little Hell-raiser. Mr. Noble, if I may ask…are you out of your mind?”

Noble chuckles as he tweaks his wrist, re-adjusting his black suit collar. “No Jeff; I’m just running out of patience. It took me weeks to even get Chris to agree to a match with me, and when he pathetically snatches a victory from me…you suspended him. Chris Hart is mine, and you WILL reinstate him.”

“And why would I do that?” Jeff asks.

“So I can crush the all the bones located between his knee-cap and ankle,” Noble spouts as woodenly as possible. Jeff sniggers.

“That seems like…well, a complete waste of my time,” Jeff answers. “Chris Hart is answering for his behavioral issues; his disciplinary misdeeds have been assessed by the APW Council, and thus, cannot, and will-not, be undone. Rest assured, they’ll hear about this little outburst as well-“

“I hope so,” Noble scoffs as he glares his boss down.

“Perhaps you should be less concerned with Chris Hart, and more concerned about Adrien Specter.” The name along elicits an eye-roll from the APW Megastar.

“Something I didn’t want, and don’t care for,” Noble grumbles. “Because Adrien Specter is such a great follow-up to the masterpiece that was Roy Speede. What are we doing here Jeff?”

“The Ovedrive vs. Meltdown match was a pivotal key in demonstrating the functionality of a promotion with three very different shows,” answers Jeff, giving Noble an answer he merely chuckles at. “We need to prove stability by demonstrating to the promotions gracing our doorstep by putting one of ours, against one of theirs. It just so happened that this little match-up comes with a bit of…history.”

“Functionality…stability…history…you are a funny man, Jeff!” Noble exclaims with a whimsical knee-slap, souring Jeff’s face even further.

“Regardless of whether or not you approve, you will wrestle Adrien Specter!” Jeff asserts. Noble’s chuckle dies.

“And if I don’t? Let’s say I refuse…and instead, turn this match into a chance to splatter Adrien Specter’s eyes all over the canvas? What if I just decimate Adrien Specter to an inch of his life, just because I could? A mute’s interesting, but a blindie is a ticket-printing machine. Would that give you your…stability?”

Jeff visually contains himself, his face resembling a man preparing a rather large spit. “If history serves me right…and it does… you and Adrien Specter were once respected allies; the two standouts of the ‘New Experts, they called you two. As far as I’m concerned, the man’s never done a bad thing on your behalf; maybe he was even your friend at some point. You’d paint the canvas with his blood, for what purpose? Just to get Chris Hart?”

Noble claps twice. “Now you’re listening! And here’s the thing about history and friendships: They have no place for losers, and more importantly, they die. Read my lips Jeff:

“I don’t give a fuck about Adrien Specter.

“He’s no friend of mine, and quite frankly, he’s no friend of yours either…unless he’s the kind of friend that beats up on your employees daresay a ‘Chris Brown’ joke is buried in dust somewhere in that statement. Tell me this match isn’t some sort of ‘punishment’ for Specter, or more importantly, a way to keep me busy. Go ahead; tell me.”

Noble mimes giving Jeff the stage…but APW’s President makes no attempt to even move.

“Congratulations Jeff: You’re started counting bodies.”

Jeff’s eyebrow twitches. “What?”

“This match, Survive and Conquer, my entire fight with Chris Hart…we’re all just bodies ready for the slaughter to you. You invite 100 men and women to tear themselves apart for…what is it, a million dollars? You put them through Hell, and don’t seem to mind when the corpses start piling up…and they’re going to start piling. Last year, I did my damnedest to stop that from happening; you want me to stop the same Goddamn thing by wrestling Adrien Specter. That sound accurate?”

“I’m aware of what you did last year Kurt,” Jeff agrees. “But APW will always have men and women to protect it. It'll live without as its 'shining angel.' You saw the wrestlers that came out to defend it-“

Noble’s chuckle rises from a silent reflection to an outright cackle as the vein in Jeff’s neck pulses.

“Six. Six men came to your defense…and God, what honorable defenders they were! Biggs, the tumor of Overdrive for the past two years, Michael Lively, a man trapped in his own Bronze-Age delusions, and the best of them all…Terry Marvin.”

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

“100 people are about to slice the arteries of this place, and Terry Marvin is going to defend it; this, I have to see. I have no intention of chaining myself to that cancer. Let Mr. Megastar of the Year deal with Adrien Specter.”

“This is NOT a negotiation!” Jeff roars, the tempered look on his filling with cracks. “You are going to face Adrien Specter on Overdrive, and if you DON’T, I’m going to pit you against every Survive and Conquer wrestler I can.”

Noble snickers, but Jeff fires back. “What’s wrong Kurt? You’re not…scared of Adrien Specter, are you?”

Kylie’s eyes nearly implode in the background, but Noble waves her off. “And why would I be afraid of Adrien Specter?”

“He’s accomplished much in Sin City, and multiple other promotions. Because you’re so interested in last year, I do believe you even won a wager against him, forcing a match between you two. How’d that match go Kurt?”

For the first Noble, Noble’s visual confidence stutters as his grin tucks back into his face.

“Wins…loses? You think I care about losing to Adrien Specter? I don’t care if he goes out there, and beats me in fifteen seconds; it’s irrelevant to me, and honestly, makes your company look like a joke compared to SCW. You know what I do care about Jeff?”

Noble leans forward, the audio angst dissipating from his voice, replaced with a clear, somber tone.

“Crushing anything that gets in my way to Chris Hart. I’m not Level-One or Terry Marvin, Jeff; I don’t have to destroy everyone that bats an eyelash at me. When I faced guys like Nick Watson and Evan Envi, I didn’t have anything against them; I saw them how you see us:

“Bodies.

“I was just biding my time waiting for Chris Hart when I faced them; that’s why I left Roy Speede untouched last week. Don’t tell me I didn’t think about it; I did. I also thought about this moment, coming here, demanding that you give me what I’ve asked for. I have your response…and you’ll have mine soon enough.”

Noble uses the desk to pull himself up, and begins to clean the chair he was sitting in as he speaks.

“Maybe you were once my friend too Jeff; but right now, it’s my friends that are stopping me from getting what I want…and I want is unavailable, apparently. So, maybe I’ll just have to settle for the people in my way. Adrien Specter’s accomplishments, his battles, our friendship…they don’t mean anything. You know why that is Jeff? For the first time in my life…

“I’m not a sheep.

“I don’t have to pretend to be invested in Adrien Specter, or pretend that I have some great respect for a guy I barely know. This whole business…it’s filled with liars and lunatics. If you pretend not to be one, you’re clearly the other. You put us all under one rough, and expect us to sit here and go….”BAAAAAHHHHHHHHH” for you. Maybe you’ll feed us…or maybe you’ll trim off everything we have. I was a nice little obedient sheep too. I was loyal to you, to the Experts, to CWC, and everyone that needed a leader, a friend…someone Noble. How have you repaid me Jeff?

“Adrien Specter.

“So maybe I should appreciate what you give me; after all, Chris Hart’s not coming back for a while, right? Maybe I’ll just sit back and bide my time AGAIN until he’s back. Maybe I will…maybe I won’t.”

Noble pushes in his chair, turning his gaze directly to Jeff.

“But whatever decision I make Jeff, I’m gonna make it all on my terms. If you don’t like it, fire me for all I care…but if Survive and Conquer has taught me anything…

“You like this chaos. You need it. It drives this company. It drives the ratings. It drive you.

“So when you play devil’s advocate, and try to get me to contain that chaos, and forget about Chris Hart, try to get me to be a nice little sheep like the rest of those bodies, I’m gonna tweet, skype, yell, write, e-mail, out-right write one message in the sky...”

Noble leans in, whispering two words.

“Fuck. You.”

Jeff’s hands quiver as his face turns an unhealthy shade of crimson. Noble motions to Kylie, and both step out of the office room. Noble adjusts his suit collar as Kylie looks back.

“That make him angry enough?” Noble asks.

“He’s calling security right now to have us kicked out,” Kylie squeaks with a smile as she peers back into his office.

“Good,” Noble answers. “You get the numbers from your friend during the brawl?”

Kylie lifts up a small piece of paper with a title across it:

THE WOLVES

It’s followed by a long list of phone number, each listed with an accompanying name. Kylie slips it into her bag.

“Start calling them,” Noble continues as he spots a few officers coming up the stairs. “Have them ready for Overdrive. We’ll give Adrien Specter a nice little Overdrive party. Jeff wants chaos…”

The guards are now on the same level, causing Noble to smirk as they move towards the duo.

“Let’s give him chaos.”

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“I want you to stop and listen for me for a second, Adrien…and no, that’s not just because you can’t talk.

“See, I’m not the sort of guy that sits with a camera in the back of his manager’s car, talking shit about some guy he doesn’t know, just because he can use Google and Wikipedia. I’m not the sort of guy that shits on you because you’re a member of CRW and…God forbid, Sin City Wrestling. I’m not the sort of guy that cuts out the wind beneath your wings just because I can.

“Instead, I’ll do it because I have to.

“As a fellow cripple, I don’t like going out of my way to hurt other people; personally, I prefer to keep things pretty clean and simple. However, recent developments are making that…difficult. I’m just trying to be an honest man, but it’s hard to be honest when you see the bodies piling up around you. Yes, Adrien, Survive and Conquer season is upon us…

“And that brings me to you.

“Jeff didn’t quite like you storming into our company last week, beating down our wrestlers, for little reason other than the fact that you could; it was about as transparent as a ghost could be! See, unlike you, I don’t enjoy violence for the sake of violence, which is why I was happy to sit back, pop open a bear, watch Les Miserable and enjoy the beautiful singing, which I’m SURE you enjoy, and call it a day…all while pounding Chris Hart’s face in. Well, now I can’t, and you know who’s gonna take the blame for that?

“You are, Adrien.

“Oh, I know you had nothing to do with his suspension; I’m an idiot! But, unfortunately, President Jeff has put me in a bit of predicament. He wants to be the sheep for the rest of Survive and Conquer to admire. He wants two accomplished, polite, rather-well rounded gentlemen to put on a proper clinic of a wrestling match. So, you know how I’m going to do that…?

“By reaching down your throat, ripping through whatever scar tissues is blocking your organs, find whatever trace of that pathetic tongue is left rotting in your tongue acid, rip it through your chest, and force you to swallow it again, while you do whatever hollow, blood-filled screaming you can still do in that ripped apart voice-box of yours.

“Sound fun?

“Yeah, me neither; not a big fan of tongue on my hand.

“It’s not personal Adrien; I’m not mad that you pinned me in SCW a year ago after Survive and Conquer. I’m not even mad that you’re causing trouble in APW; Hell, I told Jeff that without actual wrestlers to defend it, he would see how far APW as actually fallen. I’m not mad that you became a hollow version of yourself during the Extreme Tournament, totally unable to even blink while Doug Fresh set fire to everything we once protected. Nah man, I ain’t even mad about that. It’s not that I hate you; it’s just that you, well you’re…you’re….

“Next.

“Really, you’re not just next; you’re it. I thought I could contain my rage until I got my hands on Chris Hart; I’m a rather well-mannered boy like that. The problem is that Jeff doesn’t wanna see that happen, and instead, gives me you. Now, you see, why I have to do what I have to do. If Jeff won’t give me Chris Hart…

“You might as well be Chris Hart. That’s the beauty of ghosts, right?

“As twisted as a guy that you…and the guy that cuts his own tongue out during an “I Quit” match is pretty twisted…it shows me that you’re still like I was a year ago: Obsessed with trying to be the ‘best.’ You cut your own body parts off, I walk until there’s not an ounce of cartilage left in my knee; it’s good times, right? Sure! It’s not even the only similarity between us! We’ve both fought Doug Fresh to booth and bone. We’ve both been a part of the failed New Experts two years ago. We’ve both risen to fame in our respective Experts federations. We’ve fought, bled, and done everything we could in the name of justice, or honesty…or whatever. Now, the difference between us, is that if you want to keep on that little crusade…

“Don’t show up to Overdrive.

“And hey man, you know what I said about talking shit! I don’t do that! I’m not saying this because I want an easy win, or because I’m afraid of you beating me; I mean, you’ve done it once already…what’s a second time? I say it because you don’t have to be next. You can just side-step, and let me move to the next sheep that’s forced into some showcase match against me; it’s apparently what I do now! So, Adrien, from one cripple to another…

“Go home.

“Don’t be the tweaker in this situation Adrien; listen to the person giving you advice. What I’ll do on Overdrive, it’ll be because I have to; I’m not going to wrestle under Jeff’s thumb while my vendettas goes unanswered. Someone has to pay attention to me. Please, please, please, please make sure that isn’t you.

“But, I confess: I don’t think you’ll listen to me. I think Richard will whisper into your ear, telling you that this is a great chance to actually get noticed for Survive and Conquer; after all, of everyone in from last year’s Rumble, I’m the farthest guy that’s still in the company. It’d be good for your career to get beat ole #3, right?

“Right?

“Right?

“…

“WRONG!

“What’ll accomplish from beating me is NOTHING! What you’ll accomplish from losing to me is NOTHING! What you’ll gain from this, that’ll help you in Survive and Conquer, is NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING!

“If you do this…

“If you march to the beat of President Jeff’s drums and get into that ring with ME…

“If you step between ME and what is MINE…

“If you even FUCKING THINK ABOUT SURVIVE AND CONQUER…

“Then Adrien, my former New Expert, ally, one-time opponent, and perhaps even friend…you’ll be worse than a sheep, even a tongueless one….

“You’ll be just another corpse in my way.”