Post by Johnny Rebel on Jan 27, 2012 16:27:05 GMT -4
The scene opens up in a hotel room where “Simply Put” Johnny Rebel is sprawled out on the couch. It’s been a tough couple of weeks for Rebel and the room reflects all the chaos that has been coming and going from his life. He was struggling with guilt after waving off Sarah’s cry for help before last week’s Explosion… and now she was lying in a hospital bed clinging for her life and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. An alarm buzzes in the corner as Rebel slowly makes his way to consciousness and after flipping the button to the off position, he rubs his eyes and slowly scans the room.
“What have I become?” Rebel questions himself.
He knew the answer but he wasn’t quite ready to face reality yet. It’s been almost a week since the footage of Sarah had aired on Explosion and Rebel wasn’t ready to emerge from the cloud of darkness that had surrounded him. He didn’t return to wrestling for the empty promise of money satisfying him, he didn’t care about the competition or even how many championships he could amass. Rebel entered the wrestling foray once again to once again establish some form of normalcy that has escaped him. In an effort to try and mask the pain that he carried around from losing everything, Rebel chose to operate in a fantasyland where nobody could challenge his sanity… which worked for awhile until Empire and Juan Ramirez crossed the line and stepped in to his personal world.
Rebel continues to scan the room while he stumbles to his feet, crashing through a mountain of beer bottles that have built up underneath the bed. In his best effort to fool himself, he says out loud: “I can’t live this way any longer…”
Who could? Who could continue to live in a way that required him to constantly watch his back? It was only a matter of time before Empire struck again. However, Rebel was certain that defeating their leader William Bateman would cause them to rethink their strategy and buy him a little time to slow down and take a breath. Regrettably, the former International champion had underestimated the reach of his opponents and they had collectively flexed their muscle.
Rebel turns and heads towards the bathroom but instead his head swivels forward as a knock is heard at the door. It shouldn’t be a surprise that due to recent events Johnny’s first reaction is to grab protection incase of another surprise visit from the ragtag group of thugs that have made Rebel’s life miserable. He slowly creeps towards the door and slides the curtains over the front window back just enough to get a glimpse of who is standing at the door. Rebel’s relieved to see a middle-aged woman standing at the door with her arms folded and a shawl draped over her shoulders.
Rebel slings the door open and mumbles, “What do you want?”
Tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes… “Johnny?” She asks. “Johnny Rebel?”
“It depends.” Rebel responds while clutching the baseball bat in his hands. “It depends on who you are and what you want.”
“They told me that I would find you here,” The woman says which doesn’t do anything to ease Rebel’s fears. “My name is Wendy O’Brien.”
The sound of that name causes Rebel to immediately disarm and swallow the lump that had been building in his throat. He tries to hold it together but is failing miserably, “You still haven’t answered my question: what do you want?”
“Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes?” Wendy asks.
Rebel holds the door open and points towards the hotel room with the bat in his hands. The woman walks in but has a difficult time finding a place that isn’t covered in dirty pizza boxes or balled up wrestling attire. Johnny pokes his head outside the hotel room door to make sure there isn’t anyone nearby and that he didn’t just walk in to a trap. After clearing all threats, Rebel shuts the door behind him locking the deadbolt. The former International champion cleans brushes off one of the chairs in the corner and crashes back down on the mattress while reaching down for a bottle underneath him.
“Breakfast of champions…” he snickers while holding it in the air and then downing it’s contents within seconds.
Ignoring the white elephant in the room has become Rebel’s way of dealing with problems. He had spent the better part of the year living in his own little fantasy world where nothing really mattered and he wasn’t accountable to anyone. After a few moments of silence and Rebel staring up at the ceiling, Wendy pipes up.
“I think you know why I’m here.” She says.
“Come on, Wendy… Don’t do this to me. Can’t you see that I’m going through enough right now?” Rebel asks.
“You’re going through enough? My daughter is hooked up to over a hundred machines and being held in a medically induced coma… and it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” Rebel barks back. “How is this my fault?”
“You promised her that you would watch out for her! I tried to warn her that following you in the wrestling business would end up badly. I knew that you wouldn’t be able to protect her and that when it all came crashing down that the only person you would be watching out for was you! You were so focused on advancing your own career that you turned your back on Sarah and she paid the price. Now you’re sitting here in your own filth and having a pity-party without so much as even a phone call to check in and see how Sarah is doing. You’re pathetic!”
The silence in the room was deafening. Rebel knew that everything she said was correct… even Sarah had an idea that she was the prime target of Empire and Juan Ramirez and tried to fire a warning flare but Rebel accused her of crying wolf.
“Please come see her...” Wendy pleads with Rebel.
After a few minutes of silence Rebel responds with a whisper: “I can’t.”
“Why not!” Sarah’s mother cries out. “You did this! I’ve had to listen to you put the blame on everybody else but yourself… and now I’m going to make sure that you take responsibility for your actions! Your problem is that you have never had to be accountable to anyone and the first time somebody demanded accountability you went running in the opposite direction. Let me let you in on a little secret about life: it’s not about you! Now get your crap together and we’re going to see Sarah.”
Rebel immediately begins shaking his head, almost like a child.
“Absolutely not! You can continue to put the blame on me but Sarah wanted this! I wanted her to stay home where I knew she would be safe and that the many enemies that I’ve made over the years would be kept at bay! The last thing that I ever wanted was for something to happen to her and have it be my fault, believe me! I’ve replayed that video in my head time and time again and have kept wondering if there was anything else I could have done differently that would have stopped all this from ever happening… but I can’t.”
“That’s not acceptable, Rebel,” Wendy argues with him.
“I can’t go back and change what’s happened to Sarah. The only thing that I have control over is revenge. I’m going to make sure that every last one of them pays for what they have done! It began with William Bateman last week on Explosion. I started with the brains of the operation and made sure that he paid the ultimate price for ordering the attack. Trust me, I’m not going to quit until I bury every last one of them!”
“I don’t want revenge…” Sarah’s mother says while choking back tears. “I just want my daughter back. You don’t know what it’s like to sit bedside while your only child fights for her life… and I don’t want anybody to ever have to feel like I am right now.”
The tears that she had been trying to keep from flowing have overcome her and stream down her face. The usually calm and collected Rebel had even begun to sniffle and it’s obvious that the weight of the world had slowly started to crush him.
“Please…” She once again pleaded with him knowing that the answer probably wasn’t going to change. “It would mean everything to us.”
Rebel offered no response and simply sat up from the prone position and buried his head in the palms of his hands. “You know,” he began while visibly shaking from the thought of having to see Sarah in the current state she’s in, “I won’t have one problem stepping through the curtains of that arena tonight for Explosion and facing the thousands of fans that I’ve spit on for the better part of the last 15 years. I’ve called them every name imaginable… I’ve been a lone ranger since kicking Legacy to the curb nearly ten years ago. I can stand in front of fifteen thousand people each night and tell them how I really feel. But the idea of walking through one curtain in to a room with one person in the Intensive Care Unit is more pressure than I can handle.”
“Nobody is immune to fear, Johnny…” Wendy says before Rebel cuts her off in the middle of her thought.
“I’m not afraid!” Rebel chirps but isn’t convincing anybody with his tone.
“I don’t buy that for a second. You have been backed in to a corner for the thousandth time and every other time you have stood alone without anyone else to lean on; you never had to deal with the repercussions of how your actions effected other people. Welcome to the real world, darling.” Wendy answers back to Rebel’s claim of standing strong.
“I’ve run the scenario in my head repeatedly for the past week and believe me when I tell you that I’m fully aware of what I’ve done. But you have your way of operating and I have mine. The best I’m willing to do is to say I’ll consider it but as far as tonight goes I’ve got business to take of and BAD ASS is the next in line to have his skull kicked in for the part he’s played in all of this.”
“I had a feeling that you’d say something to that effect…” Wendy says while reaching deep inside her purse. “I brought this for you… I found it underneath Sarah’s pillow at the hotel she was staying at when I went to collect her things. It’s a letter that she started writing before Explosion last week. I wrestled back and forth about even giving it to you but I think looking at the circumstances I think Sarah would have wanted for you to have it.”
Rebel stretches out his arm as Wendy hands him the letter and follows it with an envelope.
“In that envelope is a ticket to join me tomorrow morning for a flight back to see Sarah. I’m not going to badger you any longer; it’s totally your decision on whether or not you use it. I had a feeling that you’d respond the way you did and when I mentioned that I wasn’t looking for revenge, I have to admit that I wasn’t being completely truthful. I want those men to pay for what they’ve done! When Sarah first mentioned that she was going to become your personal secretary, I had a family friend run a few background checks on you.”
Rebel’s eyes pop open a little bit. He’s had quite the checkered past and there wasn’t any escaping that in the moment.
“I… I can explain…” He says stumbling over his words.
Wendy puts her hand on Rebel’s leg and shushes him. “What’s happened in the past is in the past. However, I came across a couple names that continued to pop up time and time again and thought that you could use a little help in making sure those who are responsible pay for the crimes they have committed. They will be guarded around those from Phoenix Wrestling and who have ties to you. You need a few people who can fly under the radar and that you can trust without fail. I’ve taken the liberty of calling them and they are standing by waiting for you to give them the go-ahead. They may have been enemies at one time but I filled them on what’s going on and both can’t wait to get their hands a little dirty again. The rest is up to you, Johnny. I hope to see you tomorrow.”
Wendy gets up and squeezes Rebel’s neck before showing herself the way out of the hotel room. He slides two profiles out from the inside of the envelope and his mouth drops open to see two very familiar names:
Michael Andrews & “Flyguy” Steve Sanders
After the sticker shock of seeing the names of two of his former nemesis, Rebel cracks a little smile and mumbles, “I guess it’s time we even the odds…”
“What have I become?” Rebel questions himself.
He knew the answer but he wasn’t quite ready to face reality yet. It’s been almost a week since the footage of Sarah had aired on Explosion and Rebel wasn’t ready to emerge from the cloud of darkness that had surrounded him. He didn’t return to wrestling for the empty promise of money satisfying him, he didn’t care about the competition or even how many championships he could amass. Rebel entered the wrestling foray once again to once again establish some form of normalcy that has escaped him. In an effort to try and mask the pain that he carried around from losing everything, Rebel chose to operate in a fantasyland where nobody could challenge his sanity… which worked for awhile until Empire and Juan Ramirez crossed the line and stepped in to his personal world.
Rebel continues to scan the room while he stumbles to his feet, crashing through a mountain of beer bottles that have built up underneath the bed. In his best effort to fool himself, he says out loud: “I can’t live this way any longer…”
Who could? Who could continue to live in a way that required him to constantly watch his back? It was only a matter of time before Empire struck again. However, Rebel was certain that defeating their leader William Bateman would cause them to rethink their strategy and buy him a little time to slow down and take a breath. Regrettably, the former International champion had underestimated the reach of his opponents and they had collectively flexed their muscle.
Rebel turns and heads towards the bathroom but instead his head swivels forward as a knock is heard at the door. It shouldn’t be a surprise that due to recent events Johnny’s first reaction is to grab protection incase of another surprise visit from the ragtag group of thugs that have made Rebel’s life miserable. He slowly creeps towards the door and slides the curtains over the front window back just enough to get a glimpse of who is standing at the door. Rebel’s relieved to see a middle-aged woman standing at the door with her arms folded and a shawl draped over her shoulders.
Rebel slings the door open and mumbles, “What do you want?”
Tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes… “Johnny?” She asks. “Johnny Rebel?”
“It depends.” Rebel responds while clutching the baseball bat in his hands. “It depends on who you are and what you want.”
“They told me that I would find you here,” The woman says which doesn’t do anything to ease Rebel’s fears. “My name is Wendy O’Brien.”
The sound of that name causes Rebel to immediately disarm and swallow the lump that had been building in his throat. He tries to hold it together but is failing miserably, “You still haven’t answered my question: what do you want?”
“Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes?” Wendy asks.
Rebel holds the door open and points towards the hotel room with the bat in his hands. The woman walks in but has a difficult time finding a place that isn’t covered in dirty pizza boxes or balled up wrestling attire. Johnny pokes his head outside the hotel room door to make sure there isn’t anyone nearby and that he didn’t just walk in to a trap. After clearing all threats, Rebel shuts the door behind him locking the deadbolt. The former International champion cleans brushes off one of the chairs in the corner and crashes back down on the mattress while reaching down for a bottle underneath him.
“Breakfast of champions…” he snickers while holding it in the air and then downing it’s contents within seconds.
Ignoring the white elephant in the room has become Rebel’s way of dealing with problems. He had spent the better part of the year living in his own little fantasy world where nothing really mattered and he wasn’t accountable to anyone. After a few moments of silence and Rebel staring up at the ceiling, Wendy pipes up.
“I think you know why I’m here.” She says.
“Come on, Wendy… Don’t do this to me. Can’t you see that I’m going through enough right now?” Rebel asks.
“You’re going through enough? My daughter is hooked up to over a hundred machines and being held in a medically induced coma… and it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” Rebel barks back. “How is this my fault?”
“You promised her that you would watch out for her! I tried to warn her that following you in the wrestling business would end up badly. I knew that you wouldn’t be able to protect her and that when it all came crashing down that the only person you would be watching out for was you! You were so focused on advancing your own career that you turned your back on Sarah and she paid the price. Now you’re sitting here in your own filth and having a pity-party without so much as even a phone call to check in and see how Sarah is doing. You’re pathetic!”
The silence in the room was deafening. Rebel knew that everything she said was correct… even Sarah had an idea that she was the prime target of Empire and Juan Ramirez and tried to fire a warning flare but Rebel accused her of crying wolf.
“Please come see her...” Wendy pleads with Rebel.
After a few minutes of silence Rebel responds with a whisper: “I can’t.”
“Why not!” Sarah’s mother cries out. “You did this! I’ve had to listen to you put the blame on everybody else but yourself… and now I’m going to make sure that you take responsibility for your actions! Your problem is that you have never had to be accountable to anyone and the first time somebody demanded accountability you went running in the opposite direction. Let me let you in on a little secret about life: it’s not about you! Now get your crap together and we’re going to see Sarah.”
Rebel immediately begins shaking his head, almost like a child.
“Absolutely not! You can continue to put the blame on me but Sarah wanted this! I wanted her to stay home where I knew she would be safe and that the many enemies that I’ve made over the years would be kept at bay! The last thing that I ever wanted was for something to happen to her and have it be my fault, believe me! I’ve replayed that video in my head time and time again and have kept wondering if there was anything else I could have done differently that would have stopped all this from ever happening… but I can’t.”
“That’s not acceptable, Rebel,” Wendy argues with him.
“I can’t go back and change what’s happened to Sarah. The only thing that I have control over is revenge. I’m going to make sure that every last one of them pays for what they have done! It began with William Bateman last week on Explosion. I started with the brains of the operation and made sure that he paid the ultimate price for ordering the attack. Trust me, I’m not going to quit until I bury every last one of them!”
“I don’t want revenge…” Sarah’s mother says while choking back tears. “I just want my daughter back. You don’t know what it’s like to sit bedside while your only child fights for her life… and I don’t want anybody to ever have to feel like I am right now.”
The tears that she had been trying to keep from flowing have overcome her and stream down her face. The usually calm and collected Rebel had even begun to sniffle and it’s obvious that the weight of the world had slowly started to crush him.
“Please…” She once again pleaded with him knowing that the answer probably wasn’t going to change. “It would mean everything to us.”
Rebel offered no response and simply sat up from the prone position and buried his head in the palms of his hands. “You know,” he began while visibly shaking from the thought of having to see Sarah in the current state she’s in, “I won’t have one problem stepping through the curtains of that arena tonight for Explosion and facing the thousands of fans that I’ve spit on for the better part of the last 15 years. I’ve called them every name imaginable… I’ve been a lone ranger since kicking Legacy to the curb nearly ten years ago. I can stand in front of fifteen thousand people each night and tell them how I really feel. But the idea of walking through one curtain in to a room with one person in the Intensive Care Unit is more pressure than I can handle.”
“Nobody is immune to fear, Johnny…” Wendy says before Rebel cuts her off in the middle of her thought.
“I’m not afraid!” Rebel chirps but isn’t convincing anybody with his tone.
“I don’t buy that for a second. You have been backed in to a corner for the thousandth time and every other time you have stood alone without anyone else to lean on; you never had to deal with the repercussions of how your actions effected other people. Welcome to the real world, darling.” Wendy answers back to Rebel’s claim of standing strong.
“I’ve run the scenario in my head repeatedly for the past week and believe me when I tell you that I’m fully aware of what I’ve done. But you have your way of operating and I have mine. The best I’m willing to do is to say I’ll consider it but as far as tonight goes I’ve got business to take of and BAD ASS is the next in line to have his skull kicked in for the part he’s played in all of this.”
“I had a feeling that you’d say something to that effect…” Wendy says while reaching deep inside her purse. “I brought this for you… I found it underneath Sarah’s pillow at the hotel she was staying at when I went to collect her things. It’s a letter that she started writing before Explosion last week. I wrestled back and forth about even giving it to you but I think looking at the circumstances I think Sarah would have wanted for you to have it.”
Rebel stretches out his arm as Wendy hands him the letter and follows it with an envelope.
“In that envelope is a ticket to join me tomorrow morning for a flight back to see Sarah. I’m not going to badger you any longer; it’s totally your decision on whether or not you use it. I had a feeling that you’d respond the way you did and when I mentioned that I wasn’t looking for revenge, I have to admit that I wasn’t being completely truthful. I want those men to pay for what they’ve done! When Sarah first mentioned that she was going to become your personal secretary, I had a family friend run a few background checks on you.”
Rebel’s eyes pop open a little bit. He’s had quite the checkered past and there wasn’t any escaping that in the moment.
“I… I can explain…” He says stumbling over his words.
Wendy puts her hand on Rebel’s leg and shushes him. “What’s happened in the past is in the past. However, I came across a couple names that continued to pop up time and time again and thought that you could use a little help in making sure those who are responsible pay for the crimes they have committed. They will be guarded around those from Phoenix Wrestling and who have ties to you. You need a few people who can fly under the radar and that you can trust without fail. I’ve taken the liberty of calling them and they are standing by waiting for you to give them the go-ahead. They may have been enemies at one time but I filled them on what’s going on and both can’t wait to get their hands a little dirty again. The rest is up to you, Johnny. I hope to see you tomorrow.”
Wendy gets up and squeezes Rebel’s neck before showing herself the way out of the hotel room. He slides two profiles out from the inside of the envelope and his mouth drops open to see two very familiar names:
Michael Andrews & “Flyguy” Steve Sanders
After the sticker shock of seeing the names of two of his former nemesis, Rebel cracks a little smile and mumbles, “I guess it’s time we even the odds…”
