Post by Fred Debonair on Nov 20, 2022 18:46:51 GMT -5
The crumbling walls of the large, neglected building situated somewhere in the woodland hills of Los Angeles, really stand out amongst the spotlights surrounding the property. The Resnick Psychiatric facility has been running since 1978, but had always relied on funding and donations from the family members of those they sought to keep within its lonely rooms and halls and things were no different, almost forty-five years later.
The smattering of rain hits Fred Debonair in the face as he attempts to pull his black outwear survival jacket on, after climbing out of his rental, the thunder overhead rumbling as the cellphone to his ear almost slips. He chuckles at the person on the other end as he locks the door and heads towards the facility.
The smattering of rain hits Fred Debonair in the face as he attempts to pull his black outwear survival jacket on, after climbing out of his rental, the thunder overhead rumbling as the cellphone to his ear almost slips. He chuckles at the person on the other end as he locks the door and heads towards the facility.
Fred: “Yeah… No, don’t worry, it’ll be ok. No I get it, I’ve not seen either of them in a very long time… God knows how they’re gonna react but, it has to be done… Yeah, okay I’ll let you know when I’m done…”
Fred hangs up the cell, placing it inside his jacket and walks through the gates and straight for the door, the thunder closer now… He presses a button on the door and it buzzes as Fred grabs the handle and pulls it open. He looks around the reception area, which is not indifferent to the outside, subsidence was setting in with cracks in the wall and the wallpaper peeling off. Giggling and yelling can be heard down a corridor to Fred’s right, but he’s used to it as he’s been here before.
He walks straight towards the reception desk, eyeing up the glass panel between him and the woman sitting behind it, which Fred notes was not there last time… He scans the desk for a way to get the woman’s attention, paperwork adorns the desk over the panel, the phone is on the cradle so she isn’t speaking to anybody else, but she is distracted by whatever is on the IBM PC 5150… No, he had to be imagining that, no way she gets the Internet on that thing and patient records definitely can’t reach the cloud… He clears his throat and she looks up slightly startled, but she chuckles and fidgets with the glasses on her face.
He walks straight towards the reception desk, eyeing up the glass panel between him and the woman sitting behind it, which Fred notes was not there last time… He scans the desk for a way to get the woman’s attention, paperwork adorns the desk over the panel, the phone is on the cradle so she isn’t speaking to anybody else, but she is distracted by whatever is on the IBM PC 5150… No, he had to be imagining that, no way she gets the Internet on that thing and patient records definitely can’t reach the cloud… He clears his throat and she looks up slightly startled, but she chuckles and fidgets with the glasses on her face.
Woman: ”Oh Lord, I’m so sorry sugar! I didn’t see you there! Have you been there long?!”
Fred: “No, no, not long…”
He checks her over for her name tag…
Fred: “Dolores, not long at all… I’m here to see Tyler James Debonair and Mercedes-Jane Debonair, if I may…?”
Fred pulls his wallet from his jeans, opens it up and slides his driver's licence across the panel. Dolores checks it over, looking back at Fred then the licence again, two or three times. She smiles as she hands it back…
Dolores: “Through the double doors up the stairs, they’ll meet you in the canteen.”
Fred smiles politely, tips an imaginary hat and heads through the doors… He hits the first floor, pulls the door open and walks toward the canteen. As he looks around and listens to the thunder still rumbling outside, the rain now heavier hitting the windows, he hears the squeak of the door behind him and two sets of footsteps approach him but he doesn’t turn.
Girl: “What are you doing here?”
Now he does, his face stoic and focused as he looks at both his son and his daughter, just an apologetic smile on his lips but Tyler and Mercedes don’t seem to care.
Tyler: “She asked you what you’re doing here?”
Fred: “What…? No love for your old man??”
Mercedes lets out a sigh as Tyler stares him down, but Fred just looks really confused.
Mercedes: “You’re kidding right?! You left us here and you think you can come in and be dad?!”
Fred: “Hey, I’m always your dad! Always have been!”
Tyler: “Yeah, until you decide otherwise…”
Suddenly Fred’s eyes glaze over and he just stares at Tyler and Mercedes as lightning crashes through the window, illuminating his face.
Fred: “You ungrateful little assholes! Both of you… You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to stand there and lecture me about doing things a father will do to protect his children and everybody else around them! You are both unwell, you both need all the help you can get! You will not make me feel guilty for calling this place and getting you both admitted for your own sakes! And you can both sit there all you want and talk about how I got you put away or however you want to state it, but you both know the truth! You both know that Fred Debonair, YOUR Father, only got you placed in here because you’re both dangerous! Both to yourselves and those around you and I will not be held responsible for that! I will not be the one held accountable if either of you went on some psychotic rants and ended up potentially killing someone!
Tyler, you were here for what?! Five years? Before you somehow convinced pretty much all of us that you were okay and so, being your dad I TOOK A MASSIVE HIT and sacrificed my place in a Wrestling company so that YOU could sign up! You had everybody believing that you were better and despite me keeping an eye on you, having your two faced auntie and even your… Sister… Watching you, you took it upon yourself to blame me for butting into your life?! Son you couldn’t even hold on to the only belt you won in the company and yet all of this was “Pops fault”! You couldn’t string two wins together, unless I was there to carry you on my back, but of course it was all “Pops fault!” So what happened?! I had to cut you loose because you were losing the plot! You had lost a bit more than a few screws!
And you! Mercedes, Mercy… My little girl, where were you in all this?! Oh that’s right, getting sicker in the head than your brother and instead of taking care of him like you were supposed to in my absence, there you were destroying that female brand you were taking part in! Attacking people without reason, girls who weren’t even your opposition! You started acting like this delusional psychopath! All the while your father couldn’t get to England where you were based and so while Tyler was slipping into the netherworld, you too… You were out causing trauma and damage to everybody’s heads including your own! Both of you were spending two, sometimes three times a week in therapy only to come back into the company and start all over again! You guys were like the alcoholic who knew he was one, who knew the point they can get to before admitting themselves into rehab, then they come back again and do it all over!”
Fred turns away from his offspring, looking out at the land outside as he approaches the window. Thunder and lightning still sounding off in the sky as the rain lashes and ricochets against the glass panes. He sighs and closes his eyes.
Fred: “You know, I came here tonight to speak with both of you and talk about what I’m thankful for, to ask for forgiveness for what happened that led to you being here… You were what I’m thankful for, I say were because the more I thought about it as I was driving here, the more it rocked around in my brain as I walked up these stairs and then when you opened your mouths… That was it! Do you know what I’m thankful for?! I’m thankful for THIS PLACE! I’m thankful that there is somewhere out there that CAN be there for that kind of assistance for the two of you! I’m thankful that there is somewhere you can both get help! After everything you both put me through…”
He turn and points at Mercedes.
Fred: “Your mother, walking out on me…”
He points at Tyler.
Fred: “Your mother, walking out on me… School excluding both of you, two schools excluding both of you! Are you getting the gist here now?! You don’t seem to have EVER considered what your issues have done to ME! So I’m thankful, for First Class getting rid of YOU, Mercedes and calling the Psych Unit to reassess you! I’m actually thankful to John Cavanagh for pulling the trigger on YOU, Tyler and making you, however reluctantly, realise you needed to be here! Did I “sell you out”?! Yes of course I did IF I’M YOU! Of course that’s how you’ve seen it, how your mind has perceived it! What I really did was save the both of you!
YOU SHOULD BOTH BE THANKFUL FOR ME!
But no, the only thanks I’ve had from either of you are the snarky phone calls at three in the morning! The letters telling me how much you don’t want to know me anymore! I have absolutely nothing these days but major disrespect from both of you! And I DON’T deserve it! So you ask me these days what am I thankful for?! I am thankful for you Tyler… I am thankful for you Mercy… I am thankful that you guys exist to teach me WHERE I FUCKED UP!”
As Fred says the last part, another loud crash of thunder along with lightning cuts across his face as he launches a plastic lunchroom chair across the canteen. He storms out, slamming doors and doesn’t even say anything to Dolores as he heads out and walks to his car. We pan back up to the canteen window and see both Tyler and Mercedes looking down at him…
Tyler: “Did… Did our own dad just shoot on us?”
Mercedes: “Yep… I think he did. Oh well! Back to hatching our escape eh?!”
The storm above rages on, as Fred huffs climbing into the rental and Tyler and Mercedes disappear from the window, with the scene slowly beginning to fade into darkness…
++++
…A number of weeks have passed and we find ourselves on the porch of Fred Debonair’s Los Angeles home. The man in question is sitting on his chair swing dressed in a pair of black sneakers, faded denim jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a half cooked doobie sits in his hand as he swings, eyes closed… Nothing disturbs him until he hears the guttural roar of a car engine, which wakes him from his faux slumber. Fred leans forward and watches as his old friend, Abe Greenberg, opens the doors to a beat up old Alfa Romeo GTV and spreads his arms like a car salesman.
Abe: “So whatcha reckon??”
Fred: “I reckon that thing better be going to the scrapyard!”
Abe: “Aw don’t be like that, Fred! You wanted a ride to the show and now you’re gonna put my car down?? It’s a classic!”
Fred: “Yes, Abe… I agree it is a classic, a classic mess! I asked for a ride but is this thing even going to make it??”
The two men laugh as Fred jumps off the porch and they hug.
Abe: “Good to see you, brother. But where is your baby? Where’s the ‘67 Impala??”
Fred: “You too man… Where’s the Impala? Follow me…”
Fred walks around to the side of the house, towards what appears to be a two-car garage. He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and hits a fob that triggers the garage doors to slowly open with a click, pop and mechanical whir… As the doors reach eye level, Abe baulks at the mess inside. Upon a large mechanics table sits tons of bits of, potentially car…
Fred: “There she is…”
Abe: “Are you serious right now?! What happened??”
Fred: “Tyler and a railway crossing happened…”
Abe: “I’m sorry, what?!”
Fred: “I’ll explain another day hoss, we’ve got to get going.”
Fred hits the fob again and walks back towards Abe’s Alfa Romeo GTV as the garage doors slowly close behind them both and the scene slowly dissipates…
++++
…A few hours have passed and the duo are travelling north-east, on i15. Abe is driving and Fred is sitting with the passenger seat way back, legs bent with his feet up on the dash, a spliff hanging out of the window as he takes in the sights of the road.
++++
…A few hours have passed and the duo are travelling north-east, on i15. Abe is driving and Fred is sitting with the passenger seat way back, legs bent with his feet up on the dash, a spliff hanging out of the window as he takes in the sights of the road.
Fred: “So yeah, that’s what happened. I mean, Tyler swears up and down and black and white that it wasn’t intentional, but the fact it happened the one time I allowed him to borrow that car, right after we’d had an argument? That tells me a different story.”
Abe: “Damn man, that’s rough! So what did you do then? Because I never heard about this! That car was your pride and joy brother! What do you do now?”
Fred: “There was nothing I could do! At the time I had to take Tyler at his word, but the more I think back after everything that’s happened with him, Mercedes and so on… The more I think it wasn’t an accident. Nowadays I just fly or get a rental but I really need my own car.”
Fred brings the blunt upto his lips and takes a toke before blowing out smoke hoops and tilting his head to face Abe.
Fred: “You know I went and saw them a few weeks ago?”
Abe: “Tyler and Mercy? Why did you do that?! And, what happened??”
Fred: “I wanted to see them and honestly? I thought the conversation was going to be open, honest and cordial but no. I blew a gasket…”
Abe: “Did you though? Or did they make you react?”
Fred thinks about the question for a while before taking another drag on the joint and letting the roach drop onto the dusty roadside as they continue along the Interstate.
Fred: “Oh no, I definitely did brother, let me tell you. I’ve had enough of their holier than thou attitudes and I went there with the hopes of reconciling but they just didn’t want to know, so I gave it to them both barrels! You know I drove all the way to Resnick with a rental??”
Abe: “Nah man that’s no good… You definitely need something! You need something that’s not only going to get you from A to B but that’s going to last you the duration of your lifetime!”
Fred: “That’s why I’m gunning for the AXTGriff…”
Abe: “The what??”
Fred: “Kayfabe Airlines are running this competition to win a one of a kind 2023 Kayfabe Airlines AXTGriff Sports Utility Vehicle… It looks so freaking dope brother let me tell you!”
Abe: “That sounds nice man, what’s it look like? You got a pic?”
Fred fumbles through his jeans as Abe begins to slowly pull into a gas station. He pulls his cellphone out and flicks through his photo album until he finds what he wants, showing Abe who lets out a low whistle.”
Abe: “Hot damn brother! And what have you got to do, to win th…-“
Abe is stopped in his tracks by Fred, who quickly ducks and crawls on his haunches from the door to behind one of the shelving racks. He points up and ahead of the counter where Abe sees in the mirror a man holding up the gas station. Within seconds the duo have come up either side of the would be robber, pulling their own weapons (licenced to carry in most states), cocked them and placed the muzzles to his temple.
Abe: “Yeah, we’ll take that, thanks…”
The man instantly relinquishes the grip on his pistol and Fred reaches up, taking it from him, Abe then pistol whips him in the back of the skull, sending him crumbling to the ground. Suddenly the shopkeeper has reached down and pulled up a sawn-off shotgun.
Shopkeeper: “FREEZE MOTHERBITCHES!! Don’t you move!”
Fred: “I’m not understanding… I really don’t… - Hey, shut up!”
Abe: “Fred, do you just attract violent people? Take it easy man, alright?”
Fred: “We just helped you man, what’s going on?”
Shopkeeper: “You’re not Police officers, I’ve seen Police officers…”
Fred: “I don’t recall anyone saying we were?”
Shopkeeper: “I blow you, then I blow you!”
Abe: “Blow me? What the hell mate?!”
Fred: “Man screw this, FREEZE BITCH!!”
Both men pull their weapons up again, this time at the shopkeeper who makes a high pitch squeal and drops his shotgun.
Abe: “You know what’s coming now right? Give me a pack of Tropical Fruit Bubblicious.”
Fred: “And some Skittles.”
A little while has passed and as we come back to Fred and Abe, they’re chatting with a couple of cops as a couple of others are placing the robber in the back of a police van. The men thank the cops and jump into Abe’s ride, hitting the gas and pulling away, the sky beginning to darken as night sets in…
Fred: “Welp! We’ve lost some time but man my adrenaline is pumping.”
Abe: “Yep, same man, I bet you’re roaring to go and get this Car… I’m guessing you’re not alone in hunting that bad boy down?”
Fred: “Hell no, man this thing is jam packed full of some of the best of the best in the business out there, I’m talking the likes of Xavier Lux and Candice Wolf-Page…-“
Abe: “Wait, isn’t that..?”
Fred: “Uh-huh, one and the same! But it’s not just those guys who’re also wanting the AXTGriff, you’ve got those such as Molly Hatchet, Vhodka Black, Dane Preston, Jonathan Cable…”
Fred rolls his eyes at that one.
Fred: “Donny Mason, Taurus, Lexi Gold, Selena Frost so on and so forth… But there are also people I consider allies in this competition too, J Mont and Peter Vaughn, although I’ve a feeling there’ll be no such thing as Allies when these things air.”
Abe: “So, what’s the deal?”
Fred: “Man there is no ‘deal’ in this… Friend or foe, enemy or ally, the truth is if anybody actually deserves that machine it’s me… It’s me. I mean look at it this way, I’ve built myself up from nothing, Abe, literally nothing! You’ve known me since we were kids. Hell, we ended up in the same foster home!”
Abe: “Yep we sure did, crazy ain’t it? How in the eighties a mob boss semi-pro Wrestler and his wife can be securely chosen to foster children?”
Fred: “So insane but it is what it is, right? Growing up in Hell’s Kitchen, New York and I’ve got to fight through the spit and squalor just to make it another day, people thinking I was safe because of who my dad was but the target on my back was actually bigger because of it! Then I spent close to five years trying to tell him I wanted to Wrestle because he Wrestled and convince him and yet he felt I’d be better put to use as his Lieutenant, something I could quite literally be put away for, for a very long time and it didn’t seem to phase him…”
Abe: “But you broke free of those shackles right?”
Fred: “Of course but not for the lack of the fear of being dragged back in and from time to time I was, man I was doing jobs I probably should never be doing.”
Abe: “Still are…”
Fred: “And there you have it. But I dragged myself through the thistles and thorns, I burst through all the bullshit to even get someone to train me, I put all the furor of my family behind me. I’ve been through the psychotic episodes of my son, my daughter, even my ex wife walking out on me. I’ve had times when I’ve almost decided to up and leave this planet because I couldn’t take anymore…”
Abe: “Don’t ever say that man… Are you serious right now?”
Fred: “Deadly, brother. I know everybody has their journey and you should never assume, EVER, that you’ve gone through it most but I look at every single person running their personal golden mile here on WSOW and I think damn, I would love to see just one of you, walk a literal mile in my shoes! You don’t get to be the man I am WITHOUT having to take a few shortcuts lest you be cast aside and homeless quicker than you can say perennial winner! You don’t get to be me without all the history, good and bad!”
The car comes to a slow stop and we find ourselves right outside the Velvet Rabbit, Las Vegas. Fred climbs out and leans into the car.
Fred: “And after EVERYTHING I’ve been through and lived through, the one thing I still don’t have? A damn car! Anyway, thanks for the ride brother.”
Fred fist bumps Abe through the car window then turns to walk into the CCPE arena, as we fade - to - black.