Post by warrenpeace on Jan 11, 2013 19:04:23 GMT -4
Her breath cascades in front of her face, fogging up in the bitter still winter air. It’s been warmer this week, but coming off of the harsh storms in December her aging body could barely stand to be outside.
Now her shift at the diner was complete, the only stain on her blue and white waitress uniform being from her own coffee spilling down her chest. She had slipped on some water that she had not noticed was left on the floor. Those damn kids who wash the dishes really needed to learn how clean after themselves.
After all, had she fallen and god forbid been injured to bad to work, she would lose her dingy apartment, and have to live in these bitter cold streets. She held little hope in her land lord taking care of the ice that still remained on her path to her apartment door and hoped he didn’t steal her rock salt.
One way or the other the ice was gone this afternoon. She wasn’t 50 yet, and by god she would use every last bit of her youth to get it done. To her surprise, she could hear the clank swoosh, clank swoosh, of the snow shovel as she approached the pathway. The little slum lord was doing it after all. She turned into her narrow walk, both shoulders nearly rubbing the bricks from the buildings next her and stops dead in her tracks when Warren Peace looks up from his kneeling position in the salty slush of her walk way. Startled, all she could say was.
Son?
Inside of her apartment the temperature wasn’t much warmer. They sat at the small kitchen table using the oven for warmth. It’s hatch gaped to release it’s heat for them. She stirred her tea almost to frequently. She didn’t have much to say, but he came all this way and was nice enough to clean the ice from her side walk.
Mother: So, son this silence is kind of killing me. What brings you to my neck of the woods?
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pack of Camel 99’s full flavor and a cheap dinky black lighter. She lights a cigarette and offers the pack to Warren who nods his head and gestures “no”.
Warren: I don’t know, I guess you were just on my mind lately.
Mother: Wow, what an occasion. Tell me then, when was the last time I was your mind? Been a ling time hasn’t it?
Warren bites the inside of he cheeks with raised eyebrows.
Warren: Yeah ma, it’s been a while.
Mother: I haven’t seen you since you went on your crusade.
She blows smoke while making a sarcastic grin revealing her browning teeth. It had been even longer since she could afford to see a dentist.
Mother: How did that work out for you?
Warren: Meh, not so well…Results are still pending on that.
Mother: I saw you last week. I don’t have cable here, but we have it at the diner. You’re back doing the whole wrestling thing.
She ashes into a glass heart ash tray.
Mother: That’s why you’re here isn’t? You want information on your father? You know more about the prick than I do.
Warren: No, no. Not at all. Frankly, and I know it’s hard to believe, but I put all of that behind me.
Mother: That’s good.
Warren: Though, I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the whole wrestling thing as you called it.
Mother: And how exactly do I fit into that puzzle?
Warren: Well I went back, it’s still fresh you know? Still new. Only been back a week and I am a little perplexed about my match this week. I am facing a woman.
Mother: That’s rich. Have to work your way back up to the top or something?
Warren: Nah, it’s not exactly like that. I mean she seems tough as hell. She’s like some kabuki warrior or something, She actually comes across as being quite capable of kicking my ass.
Mother: So what’s the trouble then?
Warren: I know over the past few years I have done some really dubious things. I have done everything in the book short of tying some damsel in distress to a set of train tracks, but I just don’t know if I have it in me to fully commit to hurting this person.
His mother looks at him through squinted eyes.
Warren: Most everything I have ever done, in the name of revenge wasn’t for me it was for you.
Mother: You say, that but I think that’s more or less what you like to tell yourself. You being a wrestler has nothing to do with me. So what, do you want some kind of approval from me to knock this woman senseless?
Warren looks at his mother puzzled, as if he were trying to decide what to put on his pizza.
Mother: Look I have never one for sage like advice. You know this. Hell I feel like crap that every time I see you I am so damn stern and begrudging, but that probably wouldn’t be the case if you chose to show up more than once a year on a whim. I don’t know what to tell you. The first thing is the same thing I told you the last time you came here, and that’s stay out of the ring. But I know you, you’re stubborn, like me. And so no matter what I say you’re going to go to the next city, have your match and regardless of the outcome you’re going to continue chasing that ring to whatever city it’s in. And you don’t need my approval to do so.
Warren: I think I got what came here for.
He stands up and heads for the door.
Mother: Well aren’t you staying for supper?
He stops and looks over his shoulder.
Warren: What are you cooking?
She puts the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. Blowing the last puff of smoke as she speaks.
Mother: I don’t know, what do you want?
><
It’s only been a week since my return and, hell I didn’t expect a warm welcome from any of you. And the crowd certainly was not receiving of my return. I kept to myself backstage because I felt tension amongst the locker room. Hey, I don’t expect to suddenly have your trust. I was a bad guy, a deviously awful person. In time I hope you all realize that I have changed, but all of that was the least of my problems with my match last week. Sure, it has been months almost a year since I wrestled and sure there was a notable rust, but even so I had the best technique out there. And I was not the competitor who was pinned, losing our match. In fact my partner talked himself up so I highly I expected a lot more. He insisted he was so much better than me and he was born to be a singles star.
Hey man, I know what this business is like, I was a promo king, I can sell shit to a queen and convince her it was face scrub. You sold yourself, but unfortunately you came up short, and I left with a disappointing return to competition, but the cogs of this machine never stop turning. And I am days away from my next match, one in which the only person I have to rely on is myself. I have an interesting opponent.
She’s definitely a smart cookie and she did her research on me, but she needed something to think about to distract from the whole grave digging thing. Yeah she did her homework and I have to say I am not happy. Because of you I had a stirring to go visit my mother and I don’t like to do that often. There were some old feelings a brewing due to the psycho analysis I got. Like I said she’s smart, but she’s not as clever as she seems.
She’s convinced herself that I exist solely for the act of revenge against my father and yes, without a microscope that’s a basically true assessment. But there are layers upon layers. While she dug into my old wounds she failed to realize that I too was always here for the people. The people she claims to do this for. I came here to free them. To free them from the zombiefied state they were in. clamoring for what the company told them to.
I came here to honor and fight for the name of my mother who sometimes had to hold three jobs to keep a roof over my head. I defended all women, but because I acted in such a manner people tend to forget I wasn’t just some bad guy revolutionizing the tag division. I was a revolutionary trying free the people. Like so many other freedom fighters, I did what was necessary to accomplish my mission, and frankly I get the same impression from her.
It takes a special kind of intensity to dig graves in the name of revenge, I am not overlooking that. And since I am not one to spout tired routines I am gonna gloss over the whole I am a man and you are a woman routine. That’s just not my style. Our differences aren’t subtle and it doesn’t take a genius to see it. What I am focusing on is in fact the core of this match. Last week you were a loser, and so was I. We walked out of meltdown last week, with loses on our minds, crosses to bear and points to make.
To some people I am a random obscurity from the past, I was a guy who attacked opponents from behind. I cheated every which way I could. I sold myself short and it caught up with me. I have changed. It’s not about revenge anymore, it hasn’t been for a long time. It’s about dominance. It’s about recognition, it’s about getting moved to the main roster and finishing what I started.
I have no ill feelings with my opponent, it will be interesting to say the least, but I leave you with this promise. This week I will not be leaving the ring shaking my head with disappointment. I am winning this match,
Now her shift at the diner was complete, the only stain on her blue and white waitress uniform being from her own coffee spilling down her chest. She had slipped on some water that she had not noticed was left on the floor. Those damn kids who wash the dishes really needed to learn how clean after themselves.
After all, had she fallen and god forbid been injured to bad to work, she would lose her dingy apartment, and have to live in these bitter cold streets. She held little hope in her land lord taking care of the ice that still remained on her path to her apartment door and hoped he didn’t steal her rock salt.
One way or the other the ice was gone this afternoon. She wasn’t 50 yet, and by god she would use every last bit of her youth to get it done. To her surprise, she could hear the clank swoosh, clank swoosh, of the snow shovel as she approached the pathway. The little slum lord was doing it after all. She turned into her narrow walk, both shoulders nearly rubbing the bricks from the buildings next her and stops dead in her tracks when Warren Peace looks up from his kneeling position in the salty slush of her walk way. Startled, all she could say was.
Son?
Inside of her apartment the temperature wasn’t much warmer. They sat at the small kitchen table using the oven for warmth. It’s hatch gaped to release it’s heat for them. She stirred her tea almost to frequently. She didn’t have much to say, but he came all this way and was nice enough to clean the ice from her side walk.
Mother: So, son this silence is kind of killing me. What brings you to my neck of the woods?
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pack of Camel 99’s full flavor and a cheap dinky black lighter. She lights a cigarette and offers the pack to Warren who nods his head and gestures “no”.
Warren: I don’t know, I guess you were just on my mind lately.
Mother: Wow, what an occasion. Tell me then, when was the last time I was your mind? Been a ling time hasn’t it?
Warren bites the inside of he cheeks with raised eyebrows.
Warren: Yeah ma, it’s been a while.
Mother: I haven’t seen you since you went on your crusade.
She blows smoke while making a sarcastic grin revealing her browning teeth. It had been even longer since she could afford to see a dentist.
Mother: How did that work out for you?
Warren: Meh, not so well…Results are still pending on that.
Mother: I saw you last week. I don’t have cable here, but we have it at the diner. You’re back doing the whole wrestling thing.
She ashes into a glass heart ash tray.
Mother: That’s why you’re here isn’t? You want information on your father? You know more about the prick than I do.
Warren: No, no. Not at all. Frankly, and I know it’s hard to believe, but I put all of that behind me.
Mother: That’s good.
Warren: Though, I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the whole wrestling thing as you called it.
Mother: And how exactly do I fit into that puzzle?
Warren: Well I went back, it’s still fresh you know? Still new. Only been back a week and I am a little perplexed about my match this week. I am facing a woman.
Mother: That’s rich. Have to work your way back up to the top or something?
Warren: Nah, it’s not exactly like that. I mean she seems tough as hell. She’s like some kabuki warrior or something, She actually comes across as being quite capable of kicking my ass.
Mother: So what’s the trouble then?
Warren: I know over the past few years I have done some really dubious things. I have done everything in the book short of tying some damsel in distress to a set of train tracks, but I just don’t know if I have it in me to fully commit to hurting this person.
His mother looks at him through squinted eyes.
Warren: Most everything I have ever done, in the name of revenge wasn’t for me it was for you.
Mother: You say, that but I think that’s more or less what you like to tell yourself. You being a wrestler has nothing to do with me. So what, do you want some kind of approval from me to knock this woman senseless?
Warren looks at his mother puzzled, as if he were trying to decide what to put on his pizza.
Mother: Look I have never one for sage like advice. You know this. Hell I feel like crap that every time I see you I am so damn stern and begrudging, but that probably wouldn’t be the case if you chose to show up more than once a year on a whim. I don’t know what to tell you. The first thing is the same thing I told you the last time you came here, and that’s stay out of the ring. But I know you, you’re stubborn, like me. And so no matter what I say you’re going to go to the next city, have your match and regardless of the outcome you’re going to continue chasing that ring to whatever city it’s in. And you don’t need my approval to do so.
Warren: I think I got what came here for.
He stands up and heads for the door.
Mother: Well aren’t you staying for supper?
He stops and looks over his shoulder.
Warren: What are you cooking?
She puts the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. Blowing the last puff of smoke as she speaks.
Mother: I don’t know, what do you want?
><
It’s only been a week since my return and, hell I didn’t expect a warm welcome from any of you. And the crowd certainly was not receiving of my return. I kept to myself backstage because I felt tension amongst the locker room. Hey, I don’t expect to suddenly have your trust. I was a bad guy, a deviously awful person. In time I hope you all realize that I have changed, but all of that was the least of my problems with my match last week. Sure, it has been months almost a year since I wrestled and sure there was a notable rust, but even so I had the best technique out there. And I was not the competitor who was pinned, losing our match. In fact my partner talked himself up so I highly I expected a lot more. He insisted he was so much better than me and he was born to be a singles star.
Hey man, I know what this business is like, I was a promo king, I can sell shit to a queen and convince her it was face scrub. You sold yourself, but unfortunately you came up short, and I left with a disappointing return to competition, but the cogs of this machine never stop turning. And I am days away from my next match, one in which the only person I have to rely on is myself. I have an interesting opponent.
She’s definitely a smart cookie and she did her research on me, but she needed something to think about to distract from the whole grave digging thing. Yeah she did her homework and I have to say I am not happy. Because of you I had a stirring to go visit my mother and I don’t like to do that often. There were some old feelings a brewing due to the psycho analysis I got. Like I said she’s smart, but she’s not as clever as she seems.
She’s convinced herself that I exist solely for the act of revenge against my father and yes, without a microscope that’s a basically true assessment. But there are layers upon layers. While she dug into my old wounds she failed to realize that I too was always here for the people. The people she claims to do this for. I came here to free them. To free them from the zombiefied state they were in. clamoring for what the company told them to.
I came here to honor and fight for the name of my mother who sometimes had to hold three jobs to keep a roof over my head. I defended all women, but because I acted in such a manner people tend to forget I wasn’t just some bad guy revolutionizing the tag division. I was a revolutionary trying free the people. Like so many other freedom fighters, I did what was necessary to accomplish my mission, and frankly I get the same impression from her.
It takes a special kind of intensity to dig graves in the name of revenge, I am not overlooking that. And since I am not one to spout tired routines I am gonna gloss over the whole I am a man and you are a woman routine. That’s just not my style. Our differences aren’t subtle and it doesn’t take a genius to see it. What I am focusing on is in fact the core of this match. Last week you were a loser, and so was I. We walked out of meltdown last week, with loses on our minds, crosses to bear and points to make.
To some people I am a random obscurity from the past, I was a guy who attacked opponents from behind. I cheated every which way I could. I sold myself short and it caught up with me. I have changed. It’s not about revenge anymore, it hasn’t been for a long time. It’s about dominance. It’s about recognition, it’s about getting moved to the main roster and finishing what I started.
I have no ill feelings with my opponent, it will be interesting to say the least, but I leave you with this promise. This week I will not be leaving the ring shaking my head with disappointment. I am winning this match,
