Post by Ethan Monroe on Jan 14, 2018 2:20:56 GMT -5
Sheridan, Wyoming
Off-Camera
A large four-by-four truck rolls into town, snow and dirt flying off of it as it rolls into the parking lot of a local hunting store. The store is dark, wood-paneled everywhere, sawdust on the floor. The smell of different animal lures and a mustiness that is only achieved in an old shop as this. Dressed in a thick duster and hat, he takes a rickety shopping cart. He walks up and down the aisles, looking at different odds and ends, loading his cart along the way. A cast iron pot, a cord of kindling, a camping kitchen. As he nears the end of his shopping, he walks up to the shopkeeper. On the wall behind him are many firearms of different sizes. Handguns, rifles, shotguns. There is an archery area with crossbows, longbows, arrows of different types/
Monroe: How much for the Remington 700 Ultimate?
Shopkeeper: 1200.
Monroe: What’s the waiting period to acquire one of them?
Shopkeeper: None, same with any other weapon. You planning a hunting trip?
Monroe: Hunting rabbits.
Shopkeeper: Mighty big rifle for rabbit season.
Monroe: It’s a big rabbit.
Shopkeeper: How about a crossbow. Aims true, much quieter than the rifle, and less waste if you hit it right.
Monroe: I’ll take it. I’ll take a few quivers of arrows, and few boxes of the 50 cals to go with the rifle.
Shopkeeper: Sure thing, boss. Anything else I can do you for?
Monroe: Yeah, I need a new fillet knife, and a hand axe. I plan on being in the bush a few days. I don’t suspect them rabbits will just show up when I do. And if anything else comes lurking, I’ll take it down as well.
Shopkeeper: Right.
The shopkeeper rings up the purchases and Monroe places them in his truck. He rides over to the local Walmart and picks up other supplies; a cooler, drinks, snacks, other foodstuffs, a couple of tarps, a two room tent, The woman at the cash doesn’t even bat an eye, not bothering to question why a 6’7” bearded man would need all of this, and gives him his total. Monroe leaves and heads north on the 90, gets off a few exits away, hits the dirt roads out to a clearing. From there, over the next few hours, he sets up camp. He’s done all of this before, he’s an old hand now. At one time, his wife Monica would with him on these trips until she was murdered. In an odd twist, he was forced to represent the killer as his defense attorney, despite the blatantly clear conflict of interest. It was that case that would begin his exit from law. That would lead him out here to rural Wyoming.
In-Camera
The wind whistling through the trees is the only sound one hears. It’s calm, quiet, serene. Suddenly a sound of a twig snapping, the faint twang of a bow, and then a sound of a small animal falling in the grass. Into view, we see a large man walk, a crossbow at his side. He walks to a clearing some 300 yards from the camera and picks up a rabbit. He puts the carcass over his gun belt and walks towards the camera. We can see a pot bubbling over an open fire. The large man pulls out a hunting knife and guts the rabbit he just killed, cleaning out the inside before he skins the rabbit with one slit of his knife and a single pull, before removing its head and laying the pelt aside. He calmly cuts up the rabbit and throws it into the pot.
“First rule of hunting. Waste nothing. The pelt will be made into something, not quite sure what yet. Some of this meat will be turned into jerky. The carcass will be buried so the insects of the forest have sustenance as well.”
The man goes back to his pot, stirring it. He waves his hand over it, wafting the smoke to his face. He walks over to a makeshift kitchen and grabs a small spice rack and starts adding some flavoring. He opens a small cooler and pulls out some vegetables and starts peeling and cutting them up, before throwing them into the pot.
“The pot is to be left alone for now, to allow the flavors to marry into each other before I thicken the broth. Which should allow me time to talk about why I’m here. Why I am sitting before this camera. And what all of this means.”
The large man sits down on a log, pulls out a pouch and rolls himself a cigarette, pulls out a matchbox, shakes a match loose, and lightsit, shakes the match out and tosses it into the fire.
“My name is Ethan Monroe, but I go by many names. Onyx… some say my heart is blacker than the darkness itself. The Mountain for I will not be moved. Hunter, Destroyer, but for this encounter, perhaps it best you call me Judge.
And as Judge, Miss Kelly, I hereby declare you guilty of having a sharper tongue and a larger ego than your diminutive frame allows.”
Monroe walks over to the rabbit pelt and dunks it into a bucket of water to clean it of the blood and holds it in front of him.
“This rabbit… didn’t wake up this morning thinking he was going to have a bigger purpose on this day. He didn’t kiss his rabbit family goodbye before he left on his adventures, thinking he will never return. All it understands is how to be a rabbit. It knows there are predators out there. He is a cunning creature, knows how to avoid trouble. Knows to keep quiet instead of getting itself noticed. It knows its place in life. And yet there it was, its little head popped up in my scope, and I took its life.
You, Alexandra, should have taken a page from the rabbit. You should know your place in life, yet you dare to defy. You are both about the same size, neither would stand a chance against a real predator. And yet you, Alexandra, choose to not only stand in defiance to your predators, but you try to dissect your predators with choice words, choice actions. However, I have heard your words, and you have not said anything that makes you stand out. You do not impress me. Your verbal fire could be snuffed out by the gentlest of breezes. You build yourself up to be a giant within the squared circle, and yet you have barely scratched the height of an gnome.
In truth, Alexandra, you are nothing more than this rabbit.
You talk a larger game than you can produce. Your previous opponents fell into your trap week after week. If you spoke big, if you puffed yourself up, the opposition would cower and you would walk away victorious.
I challenge you to try the same against me.”
Monroe holds the pelt to a tree and stabs through it with his hunting knife, keeping the pelt in view of the camera.
“I have dealt with many like you in the past, when I was a clean-shaven big city lawyer. Loud, brash women with no cares who they upset, then would plead their innocence over some crime they committed. I knew they were guilty, I held the proof in my hands more times than not; however, I was hired to get them off, and I would. I would let known criminals, the guilty, walk free. Since the day I left the firm and came out here, I made a vow to myself that the guilty would pay for their crimes.
The business I find myself in now is very similar to the business I left. There are many a parallel between standing in a courtroom and standing in a wrestling ring. There is good, and there is evil. Prosecution and defense. The jury, however, is more than simply twelve honest men and women. There are thousands, millions even. Men, women, children, all believing their own truths and expelling their screams of joy or the hissing and boos and those they like or dislike. All awaiting the verdict that will come when the bell is sounded. Each side will present their case. Instead of evidence and bureaucratic motions, it’s speed. It’s strength. It’s prowess. Those are the motions that are brought forth. And at the end, both in a court of law and a wrestling ring, one side loses.
Sometimes, the innocent prove victorious, the good guy wins. And sometimes, the guilty prevail, and the good guy loses. The largest difference is that I am no longer representing the defense.”
Monroe walks over to the pot and stirs it, before pulling out a bit of cornstarch and water and mixing it into the pot. He moves a few of the logs out from under the pot and moves the fire aside.
“I want you to understand, Alexandra, that I am not trying to minimize what you’ve done thus far. You have many years of experience under your belt, and I’m sure you have met your fair share of eclectic opponents. Your past may shape you, but it is your present that defines you. You made the champion tap recently, I should be applauding you. That would have been a feat in itself had you not been fighting a Ricky Martin.knockoff with a bad lisp.
You beat a local boxer, somebody they found at the last-minute to allow you a demonstration in front of the jury, instead of your scheduled opponent because she came down with a case of bloated stomach due to her indiscretions. She will be tried by me soon enough, I gather. However, had things been differently, she would be the one fighting the one they call the heart of the company for the… Diamonds title I believe it’s called? I have no doubt you will have fallen to the Warrior, but instead you will fall to me.
Alexandra, you find yourself up against probably one of the biggest predators you have yet to face, I’m sure. You look at me and probably believe I’m a rookie, somebody unmade. Somebody untested, and perhaps to you, I am. However, I hit six feet tall at 14, and while kids my age assumed I was hitting bars, I was hitting gyms. Learning what I could from whoever was willing to train me. High school, college, whenever the Army didn’t need me, I was training.
Between the ropes at Premier will not be my first rodeo.”
Monroe gets up again, walks back to his makeshift kitchen and grabs a bowl, walks over to the pot and ladles out some of the stew. When he sits down, you can see markings on the bowl. In crude engraving, it reads “AK 1”. Monroe smirks as he digs in, spilling some down his shirt. He uses the cuff of his jacket to wipe his bearded mouth.
“Just like that, Alexandra, I will consume you. I will hunt you, hit you right between the eyes, skin you, filet you, and leave you broken, in pieces, stewing in your own blood and sweat wondering what predator destroyed you so slowly, so meticulously, so calmly.
And when you come to, and start to piece the puzzles together, and start dragging your carcass to the back, and the EMTs are waiting to take you to be examined and evaluated. You will look in the mirror with the one eye not swollen shut, and you’ll find new scars, new places you never bled from before. On that day, you will learn your place, as you lay wounded and destroyed, rabbit.
#PIXIEDUST 6.0 You can’t force someone to respect you, but you can refuse to be disrespected.
ITCHY AND SCRATCHY Lake Tahoe, Nevada ON/OFFCamera
Loyalty is a bitch, right? And so was getting promoted if you didn’t follow the rules of sucking up. Dodging out of a match. Then just walking straight back as if nothing happened. How was that putting a good light on the company? How did that stand for good business?
But that was the problem, this wasn’t about business. This was about friendship and the fuck what else. She had been part of this circuit for quite some time -- but certainly wasn’t used to unprofessional behaviour being rewarded.
Shame on you.
People that knew Alexandra Kelly were aware of two things: She was passionate and constantly ready to murder people. No matter the circumstances, for her standards she was still very calm and collected. Maybe too calm. That was something that her best friend Charlie Jones was thinking to herself. Ever since that whole clusterfuck was presented on social media. And considering that neither the suspect nor anyone else really reached out to tell her she was right. Nope. Instead it was welcome back babydoll, hopefully you can fuck up our reputation just a little bit more.
“I am clearly not right for this business, huh?” Alexandra mumbled to herself when kicking against the huge heavy bag. “I am obviously the one that doesn’t get the rules of professional wrestling. For my life.”
“You know talking to yourself is a sign of something right?” Charlie grinned stepping in behind the bag and peering around with a cheeky giggle. “And I don’t mean insanity, more that you’re the smartest person in the room and want to have a conversation… .”
“Just to clear something, Charlie. I am always the smartest person in the room. But that is not the point. Sometimes I just can’t stand people -- which includes everyone on this goddamn planet.” She hit again, feeling the strength of her friend holding it. “And I hate nothing more than someone making a fool out of me. And getting away with it.”
“She made a fool of herself and her employer. And anyone dumb enough to believe in her. But not you. You just wanted to kick her ass and then kick her ass again when you found out she could endanger a “child” in a match.” Charlie tried not to sound sassy, but she enjoyed poking Pixie ever so slightly. For the emotional laughter they would get when being mean about such stupidity. “But again, another week, another idiot. Another chance for my sweet little Pixie to go boom.”
Pixie couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud. It was a dry and sarcastic laughter -- the one Charlie knew best. For a moment she stopped raping the heavy bag and grabbed the towel from nearby.
“I will get my hands on her. If she likes it or not -- because despite all else, I take that very personal. But you are right. We move from beating the World Champion and getting dodged to… what was his name again? Marilyn Monroe? Or Ethan Hawke?”
Charlie tilted her head and shook it slowly. “You know he’s a former lawyer right?. He could sue your pants off….and I realise Nicks ears just twitched. But for real, I don’t know how he became a lawyer so fast. I thought you needed 8 years of law school… and at the same time he became a wrestler.”
“Maybe he is Stephen Hawking bastard? Ethan Snow?”
“But after hearing him talk...Ethan Snow knows nothing… when it comes to you. Or anything about life. But it’s ok. Cause you’ll educate him dear.”
Pixie would throw her sweaty towel after Charlie, laughing. “Educate him how? To do maths or to get a haircut? It starts to become a farce, really. I feel like that they forgot who I am -- or maybe they never knew it. Once more I face something that thinks because of my size I am easy to break. I mean bitch please, I ate people his size a decade ago and they never been seen again.”
Charlie smirked and folded her arms. “You did and still do. You intimidate people to make up children out of thin air...but when I said educate I meant break… .”
The two girls looked at each other in a serious manner. Letting a few moments pass before moving over to the bench press. Alex’s eyes fell on the weights then back at Charlie. Counting the amount of pounds it was obvious that she had been in here last. Nonetheless she laid on the semi comfortable bench, moving her arms upwards.
She won’t let me die like that?!
“I just can’t believe that in 2018 people still don’t get more creative. It is always the same speech -- and how often did it work? If someone comes at me and actually knocks me the fuck out, cheers. I appreciate that more than you can guess. But words mean nothing to me. I am not a fucking emo that will cut her wrists because someone said mean things towards me. Facts remain facts, I am unbeaten. I am taking over.”
Charlie moved down with the weight before laughing impressed at Alex lifting the weight. Staying calm with the spot. “Well, you are taking over, but at the same time anyone surprised shows their ignorance. It’s not like you don’t have a damn track record… .” She thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s why after you beat the champion they put you against someone who signed their contract 7 days ago. Scared of losing champions to the scary Pixie monster.”
Alexandra needed all her concentration to lift those weights, her face turning bright red. Yet she didn’t give up. Instead her dark, brown eyes stared up at her friend.
“You do realise that this boy has everything to gain and nothing to lose, right? I have been busting my arse off for the past weeks even months to get where I am. After I was retired for over a year.” She bit her bottom lip. “But yet there are still so many things that can go wrong. Just imagine it. A dark bar. A drunken truck driver. And Ethan Monroe. What if someone hits him up… and we have a miracle baby?”
“Can that happen? Does he have a womb? I thought men couldn’t have babies, despite his pretty hair and stuff he’s male.” Charlie tilted her head again and lost concentration before noticing Pixie with the bar, her face redder than before. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah. I am just dying slowly because I run out of oxygen.” She pushed the weight back up faster than expected, putting it back in its place. “Okay Charlie, obviously your mother failed to have that talk with you. Sit down, girl.”
Alexandra did watch her friend with an amused expression, a little surprised but then again not. What people didn’t seem to get was this: Charlie Jones was nothing but her brother. She was innocent and cute. If anything, she was the cutest one of them all. But with that came her naivety.
“You were not serious about that questions? Where you?”
“No!” Charlie threw her hands in the air then put them to rest on her hips in a wonder woman pose. “Please Pix, I know where babies come from!. The stork brings them!”
“I am sure that is what Alex told you… because damn was he an ugly baby. But, you my little flower is still living in the Peter Pan world… Neverland is nothing but a dream. You can’t go pregnant from kissing and not ever did storks bring kids.” She scratched her head. “I think Ethan Monroe thinks he can hunt himself a bear and call it Ethan jr. … .”
“It would be better looking than him...and probably much more dangerous.”
Alexandra leaned back while crossing her hands in her neck. For a moment she close her eyes before hearing the dark laughter next to her. It was obvious that this time, which was rare, Charlie had fooled her. With that innocent puppy eyes and the almost childish tone in her voice.
“You are such a bitch, Charlene. Maybe I should let you go up against the guy. Maybe, just maybe, you can scare him a little more than a little girl with high top sneakers and the cursing skill of a sailor.”
Charlie shook her head and leaned in close. “But then however would I learn from you to be more dangerous? You are vicious, and scare me. And I’m six foot tall. But you...you’re the Pixie and they should all be fucking terrified.”
Alex patted her friend on the shoulder before pinching her right there. “One dollar in the swearing jar. But more important -- sign a fucking contract. We gotta get you some action… after all.”
WHATS UP DOC?! Lake Tahoe, Nevada ON/OFF Camera
Being an adult was hard work. Some days she didn’t like it -- some days she didn't do it. Instead she stayed in bed and ate cereals, chocolate and drank every energy drink they had in the house. Why? Because she could.
Wait, that’s adultery.
Today was one of those days. It was way past lunchtime but Pixie was still in her pyjamas. Her hair tucked up in a messy ponytail while she crushed the controller in her hand. Obviously swearing at the video game she had been playing the past hours -- using words that would make every catholic school girl blush. So absorbed in her fantasy world that she hadn’t noticed her husband walking in -- holding up his smartphone. Obviously he was filming her. Question was, why?
He pointed down at his shirt which read PREMIER in bold blue letters.
Oh yeah, work.
“Is it already hunting season? And with that asked, what the fuck is hunting season? I mean honestly hit a club in Vegas -- there it is hunting season every damn night. But I guess I am missing the point. That happens every now and then but then my wonderful husband points out -- there probably isn't a point. Is that so Ethan Monroe? Are you trying to play fancy games with good old Pixie to make a name for yourself. I applaud your effort and even go as far as patting you on the shoulder. I have a generous day and will forgive your words. You only joined this territory and couldn’t know any better, right? Telling yourself that you can use me as a stepping stone. Me? Out of all people you come for me. Which maybe means I have to apologise to you, bub. My messages sometimes are a little confusing -- but I am certain you will learn your lesson. One that life itself can’t teach you better than me. One so important you will tell your grandkids about. Mark my words.”
“I am not a good stepping stone. I am not good at laying down and let you have your way. Playing victim might works for some -- but not me. I don't run unless it means directly at my opponent, meeting their face with my knee. Are you able to paint a picture? Getting fragments of what makes me the Pixie? I don’t give a rats ass about big words and even less about big guys. I tell you what I have told every other person I met in the past ten years. You get one chance. Get me done, finish the job -- or expect me to turn your lights off. Permanently. This could have gone sweet and easy for you. You could have been a good boy -- see the chance you have been offered. But instead you decided to poke the bear when it's already angry. And that is the last thing you want to face off with. I have been merciful, Ethan. I would go as far as saying I was almost lovable. But one after the other failed to do their homework. What about you, Ethan? Are you smart?”
She leaned against the fort of pillows rolling the controller in her hand, smiling slightly. When she looked briefly at Nick’s face -- she was greeted with a wink.
“I mean you must be… finishing law school in half the time. Becoming a wrestler. Don’t get me wrong, but some of your stuff does not add up. I am all for pimping your biography but at least make sense. But I will even forgive you that -- because none of this nonsense will make you win or lose matches. It is about what you bring to the table now, babe. What you can come up with that will leave me breathless. Warning, bad breath does not count. The only upside of this whole match is this -- you don’t seem to break easily. Even though you tried to convince my sis that I do. Remember? The stunning, blackhead with the pale skin? I love her to death, Ethan. But, I wouldn’t stop from breaking her body. And surprise -- I did. We faced off and neither was willing to stop. So take a deep breath and try to put the puzzle pieces together. It shouldn’t be so hard, Mister Lawyer.”
“There are two types of people. Those that stop because it gets tough and they are tired. Or those that push themselves till the job is done. I can love people and still hurt them if the job calls for it. That is the point I am trying to make. Premier Wrestling is a job for me. I got my eyes on the prize. You can put out cheap insults or write a novel on how you came for the Pixie -- the ending is always written by me. Not you. Not management. And certainly not by all those that blow their whistles. I have come this far without losing myself. I stand up for myself even when I stand alone. So excuse me that your poor threats do not excite me. That I am sitting here at home all curtains closed -- hoping I survive. Maybe being picked on half my life made me stubborn. Maybe the world has decided to create a villain the size of a computer avatar. And maybe, just maybe, you have a point in what you trying to bring over. This world is full of disappointment. Looking around you I am sure you have noticed. Maybe you had your fair share of loss too -- but that doesn’t make you anything special. You are just a competitor not willing to understand what you are up against.”
The smile became wider and soon a giggle escaped her lips. In a rather rough move she opened her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. Alexandra inhaled the scent of her bubblegum shampoo.
“I have shown patience. Not only here in Premier -- but in general. And god help me that is not really one of my strengths. You see yourself as a hunter, but I am predator. Sitting and waiting does not really go well with me. I am the ‘Get shit done’ type of girl. And while this boxing match the other show was fun -- it was by no means satisfying. Face it, I got everything and you got nothing. Let it dawn on you for however long it might take. Maybe you can bring yourself to see this as friendly advice. I will take you on a hunt where we switch roles. Of course it will make you feel uncomfortable at first. You will stumble and maybe fall -- but in the end you will achieve something. Find your place. Become aware of your own flaws. Arrogance is not always a bad thing. If you can back it up. So do not worry about my feelings, pal. Do not see me with your two eyes, feel me with every inch of your body. And maybe you will understand where all the stories come from.”
“I am the Pixie. The last of many. I will not bring you joy and happiness. If anything I will leave you in a pool of your own blood. Not because it is necessary. Not because anyone dictates me to do so. No. Because I can. And yeah, I am a little bit of a freak. I enjoy the screams of my opponents. And it even gives me a kick to see them suffer. So maybe a few of my screws are loose -- but isn’t that the fun? When you come across someone or something that you don’t understand. It is not overly complicated. So no matter how small minded you are -- I am sure you will get it. Step onto my territory without an invite and I will make sure you leave on my terms. Wrestling is my life. Therefor Premier is my home. I have not personally let you in -- but you are still here. Showing no manners and a certain sense of blasphemy. I built my own Queendom. I made its walls thick and strong. You ain’t gonna take them down, honey.”
With a quick move she rolled out of bed, standing there in her Harry Potter pyjamas. In her usual manner she walked closer to Nick -- and the camera.
“You may try your very best to prove me wrong -- because I am tired of teaching lessons. Believe it or not, I am rather just a fighter. Someone that comes out there and performs for a crowd. Trying to find that one person that is not just big words. After so many years there comes a time when you have seen it all. Heard it all. And tend to shrug it off. Find your voice, Ethan. But keep in mind that your words will only be heard if you truly mean them. Don’t be another follower that will be forgotten before the next day dawns.”
Alexandra pressed her lips against the camera, leaving a mark.
“And in honor of the ‘You are welcome’ movement… You’re welcome, Ethan Monroe.”