Post by Smith Jones on Jul 12, 2013 17:56:03 GMT -5
Saturday, 12:43am Mya’s apartment, hours after the interview.
Fade up on a shot of an apartment building in Chicago, Illinois, on a warm night, late. The camera moves down to the street where we find a drunken couple walking crookedly down the sidewalk. They make their way into the building and press the elevator button. Yes, it’s Mya Denton and Smith Jones. The budding romance continues, sickening though you may find it. As they await the elevator, Smith and Mya lean against the wall and kiss passionately with no regard for anyone who may be watching. They are the only two people in the world and they are locked together. The elevator door opens and they continue to make out, pushing past an old lady who is getting off the elevator. Smith pulls Mya's body close to his and Mya digs her nails into his back through his shirt. They spill into the hallway and up to Mya’s apartment door. She fumbles for her keys as Smith does not relent from his onslaught of kisses. Mya opens the door and they move inside. The door slams shut. Smith presses her up against a shelf and then spins her around, lifting her up onto the dining room table with her legs wrapped around him. He kisses her neck as she moans in the darkness. Jones picks her up, her legs still wrapped tightly around him, and he carries her into her bedroom, throwing her onto the bed. The intensity heats up! Smith’s hands are all over Mya; Mya's hands are all over Smith and their clothes are becoming less and less of an obstacle to what they both want in this fiery moment. And it is at this hot and steamy moment that Smith fucking Jones decides to grow a damned conscience.
Smith: You’re fully hammered, Mya.
Mya: I am. Are you gonna fuck me now or what?
Smith: You’re not thinking straight. Two hours ago you were crying to me about how much you miss…
Mya: If you say his fucking name right now, I swear to God…
Smith: Okay. But you’ve had a lot to drink tonight. I don’t want you waking up in the morning with regret and tears. I’ve been to this movie before. I know how it ends. I take advantage of you. You leave tomorrow feeling like you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. I laugh about it and move on to some ring rat in some dirty town forgetting instantly about the times I’ve spent with you.
Mya: SMITH!!!!!?!!!!?!
Smith: Hear me out! What I’m saying is I don’t want that to happen here, Mya. I’m not turning babyface on you. I just want to travel the world with you and kick ass along the way. That won’t happen if I drunk fuck you right now. You need to deal with your feelings for him and decide to be with ME. When you’ve made a level-headed decision, you know where I am. Until then…
Jones kisses her hard on the lips again and then puts her head on her pillow. She almost immediately passes out. He stands over her and watches her sleep for a little while. Her little snore amuses him.
- - -
Friday, 10:29pm Before the apartment.
Fade up on a shot of a bar in downtown Chicago. There’s a jazz band on stage and people are grooving to ‘Lullaby of Birdland’ on a sweet alto saxophone supported by horns, drums, a standup bass, keys, and a clarinet. No singer. Just music, and great music at that! Smith and Mya are sitting across from each other in a booth in the corner of the room. She is laughing. Even Smith is wearing a bit of a smile. They hold hands and sip drinks together. Her apple martini is half-empty and his Canadian is almost done. He raises a hand to the server.
- - -
Friday, 10:24pm Before the laughing.
Cut to a shot of Mya with her head on the table. She is crying her eyes out. The band is playing ‘Night Train’ at a slow, plodding tempo with a swing. Smith looks around at people to see if they notice Mya crying. She gets a second wind of sadness.
Mya: Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiii! Why did you come here, Smith, while he went to see Brytain?!?!
Smith: There there, Mya. Who knows what’s going on in that man’s head?
Mya: I don’t usually cry like this.
Smith: I know. You have a lot going on. I get it. But there will come a time when you’ll be more able to see a way out of the sadness that surrounds you.
Mya: Thanks, Smith.
Smith: Yeah.
They stare at each other. He wipes a tear from her eye. She smiles.
- - -
Friday, 8:18pm Before the bar.
Jones sits in the back of the white limousine alone with his thoughts. He looks out the window and takes in the sights of a city he has come to appreciate through the eyes of his newest interest. He thinks about what he just did with poor Monica Garcia and laughs a little. His mind then wanders to his coming Rapture match.
Smith: Jerry “The Evangelist” Matthews. Fuck, you could have a fucking field day judging my life right now, couldn’t you man? I’m the example you show to all of your parishioners of how NOT to live life! I’m the worst case scenario for those who wish to walk the streets of gold one day. Hey, I’ve told you before, man. I used to be just like you! Played drums in the church band. Performed in different drama groups. I was a full-on nerd for the Lord. Can you picture me, the great Smith Jones, in glasses and high socks with shorts going door to door and selling God on a Saturday afternoon? That happened, Jerry. I did that. And I know what it’s like to sit in a massive crowd and worship Him. I was at Skydome as a kid when Billy Graham broke the WrestleMania 6 Skydome attendance record of 67,678 and brought in over 70,000 worshippers! I knelt on the Astroturf and I prayed with tens of thousands of people. That is a true story from my real life. It was pretty fucking cool! Somewhere between there and here, I learned that so many of those tens of thousands of people and the millions around the world are just hiding their darkness behind their warm smiles. Judgmental hypocrites. I’ve traded in my haughty halo for honest horns! I don’t have faith in those around me nor do I have faith in those above. I believe a fuck of a lot more in The New Era than I believe in anything you say, reverend. If God insists that I practice blind faith He can go to Hell!!!
Jones rolls down the window and spits out onto the road as the car drives through Chicago’s streets.
Smith: Wanna know where I’m going right now? I’m going back to Mya’s apartment to get cleaned up and then I’m gonna take her out, liquor her up as much as possible, and do whatever the fuck I want to do with her young, strong, supple body. And when I’m finished, I will put her unconscious ass to bed and she may not even remember a thing in the morning! I’m in the mood for a hot fuck and it’s goin’ down tonight!!!! Dude, I get that you’re a wholesome guy and the sort of thing I’m gonna do tonight never ever happens to you. So, when I throw on, say, a sleeper hold in our match next Saturday, maybe I’ll put a hand in your face so you can smell my finger.
The white limousine stops outside Mya’s building. The driver gets out and opens the door for Smith. He goes inside to the elevator and presses the up button. He waits. The elevator arrives and he enters.
Smith: Oh, and here’s a note to the Alex Schafers of the world who think they can just barge in and take over – kid, I can see that you’re talented and you’ve got a goal in mind. In the immortal words of Justin Timberlake, “it’s like you’re my mirror”. I get you. But, I gotta warn you that the PCW Broadcast Championship is not going to be as easy for you to grab hold of as you think it is! Two of Premium Championship Wrestling’s most creative and agile superstars are embroiled in a battle to determine who is most worthy of carrying the title into the future. Once this battle is over, Alex, then… maybe… you will get the chance to actively hunt for gold. Until such time, I’d advise you to get wins and build a resume so that you can’t be denied when your moment eventually comes! Like I told you yesterday on twitter, I think you just might be New Era material. Watching you…
The elevator arrives. The door opens. He exits.
- - -
Friday, 7:00pm The interview. Present time.
Fade up on a shot of Monica Garcia sitting in the back of the white limo with a muzzle over her mouth and tears streaming down her face. She stares blankly into camera as if her sadness has just disappeared leaving emptiness. She stares and we stare back. The Premium Network is struck with shocked silence.
Smith Jones settles in right next to her as the camera sits on a two-shot. Monica never looks away from the camera. Smith looks at Monica. He speaks.
Smith: She’s an artist, aren’t you, Monica.
She nods.
Smith: She has given me her vote of confidence and chosen to use me as her mouthpiece in this shocking bit of performance art. This muzzle has been locked around her jaw by all of the people in that locker room who ignore her. Who see her as nothing more than a human mic stand. She’s a person, goddamit!!! And I don’t really give a fuck. I’m a hashtag heel! But you people out there who like to think of yourselves as honest and fair and kind and giving and noble… you fucking people treat Monica Garcia like she is only here to make you look good. Despicable me? Despicable you!!!!! You talk about being a good person and then try not to let the change in your pocket jingle while you sidle past a homeless teenager. And to you, people like Monica Garcia are just the stinking piles of putrid human trash that you must navigate to get through your busy day!
Jones puts his arm around Monica. She does not respond.
Smith: As you can already see, tonight’s interview is gonna be a little different. Monica has questions for me, but in support of her performance art I will NOT allow her to ask them, but rather assume what she would have asked me here tonight. Sound good? Good. Let’s get started.
He talks his best fake reporter voice as this ludicrous self interview is about to begin.
Smith: Now Smith, I’d like to start with the question on everybody’s mind: what’s going on between you and Mya Denton? Is it love?
That is an excellent question, Monica, but easy with the four letter word! I like Mya. She’s a sweet chick and hot as hell, but if she can’t kick Kai to the curb, she can’t have Smith Jones. It’s that simple. That said, I am going to do everything in my power to make the man in the white facepaint a distant memory and the man in the white boots a true heel of legendary proportions!!! There are few lines I won’t cross. Kai knows that now and if Mya is smart she will benefit from my aggressive pursuit of her. And to those out there who look at Mya and Smith and see an odd couple, a mismatch perhaps… respectfully, fuck off! Mya is hot, she’s creative, she’s funny, she's passionate… she’s a fighter and I like that. I feel she is an underrated talent and she intrigues me. Heel or face, I want to know more about Mya Denton.
Garcia looks off at nothing for a moment, perhaps thinking about how romantic Smith can be or perhaps thinking of vomiting at his arrogance.
Smith: Brytain Montgomery is threatening to become a danger to Mya Denton if you don’t agree to take your shot at the PCW Broadcast Championship and free Brytain from your rematch clause for that title. She has even asked that you take Mya’s place this Rapture for the belt. When are you going to take… your… shot?!
That is the million-dollar question, isn’t it? When? Bryte thinks she can force me into a match by threatening the woman I… like. Brytain wants to force me to play her game and take my shot on her terms. Nuh uh, Monica. Nuh uh, Bryte, that’s not the way Smith Jones works!!! I am the puppetmaster!!! I make the people dance!!!! Listen to me, Montgomery. There is nothing you can do to make me give in to your demands. I am the kidnapper here, NOT YOU! My rematch clause keeps anyone else from challenging you for the PCW Broadcast Championship. Your reign means fuck all. You wanna threaten Mya Denton with physical torture??? I say bring it the fuck on! She doesn’t need me to save her from you. You’re not as much of a threat as you say you are. You’re a good person on the inside. You don’t really want to do this. Just WAIT……………………………………………………...…. and when I am good and fucking ready, I will take that belt from you before you ever get the chance to make your mark. Your championship reign will die before you even take a single step. It’s heartbreaking, really. Like a woman who gets attacked two minutes from her house after a late night shift. So close to getting there; so far from home. I’m the guy hiding in the bushes, waiting for hours at a time. I’m skulking in your backyard. I’m peering through your drapes. I can hear you on the phone with your boyfriend late at night. I’m here when you don’t even know it. I’m right here. When am I gonna take my shot? The moment after Brytain Montgomery’s mind snaps like a fraying rope holding a grand piano. When her sanity comes crashing down in a million pieces, that is when I will strike… and not a moment sooner. Broadcast Title match on Rapture? Don’t hold your breath.
Garcia looks impressed with his answer.
Smith: Jerry Matthews is someone you’ve had trouble beating in the past. He seems to have your number. How have you altered your gameplan to overcome this religious ghost from your past?
It’s funny, religion is one of those things from my past that always seems to creep into my mind from time to time. Now, at a time when I am considering stepping foot into a church again, I get thrown a match against the poster boy for wafers and wine. Can Smith Jones beat Jerry Matthews? Have I evolved far enough to surpass him in terms of relevance, watchability, influence, destruction, violence, rage, terror, passion, skill…? While he was carrying the Platinum Championship for just short of 200 days, wasn’t I matching him or even beating him in the ratings? Even when I was losing to people like Heather Monroe and Syn, I STILL came out smellin’ like a rose every damned time! How have I altered my gameplan? I haven’t. It’s the same combination of hard work and proving my shit over and over that makes the name Smith Jones so powerful!!!! I’ve trained hard in the few years I’ve been in the biz and even though God may have created the Heavens and the Earth, I know waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more wrestling moves than He does! And hey, I’m not stupid enough to make the mistake of thinking that Matthews is just a whipping post for God haters. He is indeed a legitimate threat to my personal health and safety between those ropes. That’s why I’ve been training so hard the past while. I’m looking to be in mint condition when next we meet, Mr. Matthews. I’m not coming to Saturday Night Rapture to battle my demons from the past. I am coming to Rapture to extend my current win streak to SIX!!! I will unload gregarious amounts of barbarism upon thine ass. I will emotionally sodomize you so aggressively that He’ll drop you faster than Gomorrah! I plan to tear your ministry out by its roots and throw it into a bottomless pit to die! I’m going to hit you with damaging knees to the ribs and painful elbows to the jaw and I’ll rock you so hard with the Point of Controversy that you’ll indeed end up face to face with your maker. Soon, even the holiest pig in the pen will be groveling at my feet to help him welcome Smith fucking Jones into the ring. The Word of Smith Jones, thanks be to ME.
Monica Garcia looks directly at Smith in awe of his genius or his stupidity.
Smith: Okay, one last question: you’ve hinted at wanting a shot at The World Title on more than one occasion. Do you have plans to challenge Danielle Lopez anytime soon?
Smith leans in very close to the camera. We can still see Garcia’s tear-soaked face in the background. She listens intently to his coming words, as do we.
Smith: Battlefield Match... Battle Finale. Hashtag, Toronto4BattleFinale. Get it?
Fade to black.
Smith: Now, get out.
Friday, 6:42pm Before the interview.
Fade up on an extra scene shot minutes before the interview. Monica Garcia walks up to the white limo dressed in a dark business suit over an orange blouse and carrying a briefcase. Smith is waiting there and he extends his hand for a shake.
Smith: Welcome to the white limo, Miss Garcia. Let’s get started.
Monica Garcia: I’m really looking forward to this, Mr. Jones.
Smith: So am I.
Fade to black.