I'm An Asshole, Not A F**kin' Idiot ((Off Camera))

Knock-Knock-Knock

Groan.

Knock-Knock-Knock

Ugghhh…

"Scotty?"

Knock-Knock-Knock

"Scotty?"

"Go Away!"

Knock-Knock-Knock

"Scotty, we're gonna be late for…"

BOOM! The unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting a door.

"I SAID GO AWAY!"

We draw open inside of a small, humble apartment. The kitchen floor is covered in dingy white tile with cracks and pits. The metal sink is full of dishes that look like they've been there for a very, very long time as the neighboring counters are covered with Styrofoam take out containers and brown grease stained sacks.

 Inside this small kitchen is a blue card table with a black plastic ash tray full of butted out cigarettes, a worn out deck of cards and a bunch of Busch Light cans. It's surrounded by lightly padded blue folding steel chairs with rips and tears in the cloth over the padding on the backs and seats.
The only things that separates the kitchen from the living room are the breakfast bar with the ugly scratched brown surface and an even uglier old brown carpet beginning from the edge of the tile and stretching throughout the remainder of the apartment.

First our putrid dingy brown carpet stretches into the small living room area where it lays beneath an old ugly green/plaid couch and an old beat up maroon red cloth rocking recliner. Between the two pieces of furniture is a "coffee table" comprised of a piece of graffiti tagged plywood held up by six plastic milk crates that were probably stolen from outside the nearest Kwiki Mart (two at each end and two in the middle). Near the back wall where the windows and dusty, dirty, cracked white blinds reside is an old 90s style Box TV sitting on some more milk crates with an extra milk crate to the side holding a VCR (Yes, you read that correctly, a VCR), a Playstation 2 atop of the VCR and an N64 atop of the Playstation 2 with their respective controllers laying down around the milk crate on the floor.

Squeezed between the end of the bar from the kitchen and the wall from the living room is a small hallway. Down this small hallway is one door to the right. It's open, it's dark but we can tell it lays host to a small bathroom. Straight ahead at the end of the small hallway is another door… Both doors are cheap brown doors with scuffed gold colored door knobs. The apartment is covered in brown wood paneling.

Standing in front of the door at the end of the hallway is a tall fella with long brown hair dangling down with a bit of a curl to it. He's wearing a LeBron James home jersey and matching NBA Cavaliers mesh shorts. He sighs as he stands outside the door. He lifts his hand as if to consider knocking again but, thinks better of it and turns back around, walking back down the hall from whence he came.
He heads to the beat up white refrigerator and opens the door. The light comes on revealing some stray Busch light cans, an open box of baking soda, some condiments in the door and not a whole lot else. He sighs again and closes the door.

As one door closes another door opens… No, I'm not being philosophical. I mean literally, as Richie closes the door to the refrigerator the door he was banging on down the hallway finally opens and out emerges a man. A reasonably well sculpted man. His long curly hair is wild and thrown, nearly blocking his dark glazed over eyes. He wears nothing but a pair of plain black boxer briefs as he half maneuvers / half scratches his bulging sack through said briefs.

The man in the Lebron jersey spins around with gasp, "Finally! It's only four o'clock! Geesh Scotty."

"Yeah, so? When the fuck did you start getting so concerned with when I wake up, Richie?"

Richie, "It's just… We've got that show tonight and I don't want to be late is all."

"The show doesn't start till seven."

Richie, "Well yeah but you need to shower and there's traffic and…"

"What are you, my mom? Don't worry about my fuckin' shower schedule. Just make sure your gear's clean motherfucker. I'm not gonna have a repeat of last week when you opened that stinking disgusting gym bag of yours in the car and nearly killed everybody."

Richie, "But Brian asked for gum and my gum was in the bag…"

"Yeah, and it smelt like a rotting asshole was in your bag too. Speaking of Brian, where is your fat pasty friend? Shouldn't you guys be pissing and moaning over Madden 08 or Need for Speed right now?"

Richie sighs, "I told you yesterday Brian ran off to Vegas with that girl he met."

"What girl?"

Richie, "You know? The one who used to restock the buffet at the Golden Corral?"

"HA! That fat sack would run off with a buffet attendant! Wait… You told me this last night."

Richie, "Yeah… Well, technically this morning… Whenever you came in."

"Well don't take it personally… I don't remember coming home or much of what happened before that so… yeah. Any other pertinent information you gave me last night?"

Richie, "Yeah… Kaydence called."

Scotty scratches the back of his neck as he tilts his head and says, "Oh yeah?"

Richie, "She says a friend of hers got her a deal to get regular bookings with a big time Indy down in Kansas City and they'd like to bring us in too if we'd be willing to go."

Scotty, "She act like she wanted us to go?"

Richie, "I mean, she told us about it so I think she wants us to go."

Scotty, or Shattered Soul as he was known to wrestling fans, yawned a bit while scratching his clean shaved chest.

Shattered Soul, "Eh… I don't know. I think I still have some contacts in Kay-Cee but fuck… What a boring town. I want to go to Kansas City like I want to fuck your mom."

Richie, "Hey! ……….. What's wrong with my mom?"

Shattered Soul, " ……… -_- ….."

Richie, "What? God made her big to reflect the size of her heart."

Shattered Soul, "Right… Anyway, I guess I'll call her tonight and see what's up."

Richie, "My mom?"

Shattered Soul, "Yes. I'm going to call your mom. No you fuck-tard! Kaydence!"

Shattered Soul turns and heads back the way he came.

Richie, "Hey, where ya going?"

Shattered Soul replies without stopping or turning back around, "To scrub my nuts so you'll quit yer' bitchin. That alright or were you hoping to come tenderly loofa them yourself?"

Soul shuts the bathroom door behind him as Richie shrugs, turns and heads toward the TV, flicking on the PS2 and grabbing a controller as we fade.

.:: A Couple of hours later ::.

The scene draws back open on a well lit room. While we can tell it's general purpose isn't to be a lockeroom since it's wide open with plastic fold up tables and steel chairs rather than any lockers, tonight it's serving just such a purpose. We can see guys scattered about with there bags and luggage on tables as some are changing from street clothes into wrestling clothes and others are doing walk throughs of what they intend to do in their match tonight. On the wall there's a big dry erase board with names and info scattered about…

MAIN

GLW CHAMP – CAGE
A HOWARD > S. SOUL – 20 MIN

W. CHAMP –
Z. ZOMBIE > J JAMES – 10/15 MIN

INTERMISSION

TAG CHAMP
ROCK/HIP HOP CONNEC > S.O.EXILE
DQ, SOE KEEP STRAPS – 10/12 MIN

 Z JACKSON > FLEA – 5 MIN

SQUASH

A AMY + C CROFT > KATIE K + MAYLIN – 8 MIN
RUN IN: MADISEN K ON KATIE K. MAYLIN ENDS UP 2 ON 1

J SILVIA > R KILROY -8 MIN

AFTER: SILVIA PROMO TO SET UP BIG TYMERS TAG CHAMP MATCH NEXT SHOW

Z STEEL > T IMPACT – 6MIN

PROMO: A. HOWARD/TOM R/S.SOUL + SOE

There's a door in the back of the room and through that door walks in Richie and a now full clothed and groomed Shattered Soul with their bags over their shoulders. They begin shaking hands with the guys in the back, Richie chatting a bit while Soul just moves on and finds an open table up front to toss his bag on.

"Hey Man…"

Soul turns around to a big ol' fella resembling Kimbo Slice before he passed.

Soul gives a nod, "What's up Antwan?"

The two shake hands as Antwan replies, "We're working the cage tonight."

Soul nods, "Yeah."

Antwan, "You wanta go over it?"

Soul, "Nah. There's plenty of time. We'll throw something together during intermission."

Antwan, " 'ight then."

Antwan walks off as Shattered Soul glances up at the dry erase board.

"Hey Scotty!"

Shattered Soul groans slightly as he turns, "Hey what?"

Richie is standing there with a fella resembling Kenny King.

Richie, "You know Derek right?"

Shattered Soul, "Yeah…."

Richie, "I think he should come on the road with us. Cover for Brian."

Shattered Soul, "That's retarded."

Derek, "Hey man, I know I'm still a little green but I'm working hard and I'm putting on good matches man…"

Shattered Soul, "Yeah, I know."

With clear surprise Derek replies, "You do?"

Shattered Soul, "Yeah, I've seen you work. It's got nothing to do with that. You don't fit our gimmick. I play a dark grungey abusive cult leader and the guys I keep around me need to be the type of misfits who'd follow a scumbag like Shattered Soul to get some semblance of acceptance and a bond with a "family". How do you fit into that? You're a clean cut, good lookin, athletic kid who looks like he gets laid every night and doesn't have a problem in the world. Why would you have low enough self esteem to get caught up with a character like Shattered Soul?"

Derek, "I mean…. I don't know… I never really thought about it."

Shattered Soul, "Now somebody like Mandatory Demented in that mask looking like a total outcast from society… Or Flea looking like a wimpier version of Judd Nelson in the Breakfast Club… Shit, even fucking Mikey Metal with his piercings and his straight from the mosh pit look… Any of those guys could fit in with our gimmick easily. Which is why all of 'em except Mikey are a apart of our stable when we work Cleveland."

Derek, "Why aren't they on the road with ya?"

Shattered Soul, "Metal can't work, Flea is going to college and Mandy knocked over Richie's juice box two years ago and he's still bitchin' about it."

Richie, "IT WAS MY LAST ONE! HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY SORRY!"

"Dude! Still with the juice box?! For fuck sakes!"

Richie, "HECK YEAH STILL WITH THE JUICE BOX! IT WAS MY LAST ONE YOU JERK!"

SMACK!

"OW!"

After smacking Richie across the back of the head, Shattered Soul barks, "Shut up!"

Richie, "Sorry…  "

Soul sighs, "You see what I deal with? You really wanta go traveling the country with this?"

Derek, "I mean… I just want to get my name out there and I'd like to chance to pick your brain."

Shattered Soul, "I can't help ya, it just doesn't fit."

Derek, "Wait, what if that's my gimmick. What if that's the way I fit with ya'll."

Shattered Soul perks a curious eyebrow.

Derek, "Hear me out bruh… What if I'm the dude riding your coat tails? You've been to the show, you've built a big cult following, held some gold places, done time in ICWA and PWT and IRX… What if I'm just riding your coat tails. I put up with your shit cuz it's worth it to fast track to the top."

Shattered Soul, "Hmm… That's not bad kid. Here's what we do… Richie's my sidekick. We make you Richie's sidekick… Except you suck at it because you're so arrogant and self absorbed that you're always checking yourself out in the mirror or trying to pick up some rat at ringside… You show up when I need ya because you know I'm your meal ticket but you're a shitty sidekick to Richie. Kinda like you're fucking the vice president to meet and fuck the president. I'm the President but I'm hard to get so you keep putting up with Richie to try and get over with me but you're not *really* into Richie so now you put out just enough to keep him but not like it used to be."

Derek, "That's a fuckin disturbin' way of putting it but yeah, I'm with ya man."

Shattered Soul, "Alright, I'll tell ya what… Nothing's in concrete yet but we're probably taking our carnival act to the Midwest. We'll still be working here too when Andy shells out the money but I think we're gonna relocate our base of operations down there for a while. You're welcomed to join us but I'm telling ya now, I'm not everybody's cup of tea to deal with. You wanta hang with us, pick my brain? Fine. But if you can't handle the fact that I can be a moody fuck, this isn't gonna work out."

Derek laughs.

Shattered Soul, "I'm not joking."

Derek, "I know."

Shattered Soul, "Then what the fuck are you laughing at?"

Derek, "It's just…… I read the sheets man. Your reputation as an asshole more than proceeds you. I'm coming into this fully aware of the legend of your personality quirks. "

Shattered Soul offers no reaction as he stares through Derek. Richie gulps, turning a little pale… Derek just stands there relaxed like it's no big deal. Soul finally shrugs, "Fair enough kid. Make sure Richie has your number. We'll call ya when we get our shit in order."

Derek nods and the two shake hands as Richie sighs a sigh of relief.

Shattered Soul starts walking back toward the back of the room as Richie says, "Hey, where ya goin?"

Shattered Soul, "To roll your mom in flour and look for the wet spot."

Richie sighs.

Derek, "Damn dawg… Your mom must be crazy fat."

Richie, "Hey… Only Scotty gets to give me crap about my mom."

Derek laughs, "Alright man… alright."

Derek pats Richie on the back as we cut away to catch up with Soul who is now standing outside the back of the building, sitting on a set of concrete steps. He lays his phone on the steps as we hear a ringing through the speaker. Finally a female's voice answers.

"Well look who it is."

Shattered Soul rolls his eyes, "Don't start Kaydence."

"I called you like three times last night. Straight to voicemail every time."

Shattered Soul, "Yeah, my phone died and I wasn't near a charger."

"You sure you weren't just too fucked up to answer it?"

Shattered Soul, "Yeah, I was, but it wouldn't have mattered because my phone was dead well before that. "

"So why didn't you have your charger?"

Shattered Soul, "Because I have a penis instead of a vagina so it's not the end of my fucking world if I can't be on my phone every God damn second. Are we really going to do this right now?"

"Sigh. No, it's fine. I just haven't seen you in a while and I never know what sort of crazy crap you're into when I'm away."

Shattered Soul, "Same crazy crap I'm into when we're together, just more of it."

"That sounds about right."

Shattered Soul, "So Richie said you called him last night about a job?"

"Yeah, well I had to since I couldn't get a hold of you."

Soul sighs, "Right. Adolph Hitler killed the Jews, Saddam Hussein tossed voices of dissent into a wood chipper and I let my phone die. We're all equal monsters, it's a travesty against humanity that I haven't blown my head off to avoid Soviet capture or been hung by the US Government already. That aside, what's this job?"

"You know Tommy Bennett?"

Soul, "Obviously I know of him. No, I don't know him personally."

"Oh. Well I became friends with him and his wife in the ICWA. Anyway, he just came back from Japan and he made a deal with this place in Kansas City, Missouri State Wrestling, to do regular bookings with them for their TV every two weeks. Good deal being that it's an indy and all. So…"

Soul sighs, "Kaydence… I know you want to tell me how to build a clock tower but I'm only asking what time it is. Can we get to the part that I give a fuck about?"

"Richie woke you up didn't he?"

Soul, "The fuck's that got to do with anything?"

"Because you're always such a dick when you get woken up before you're ready."

Soul sighs again," Yeah… Richie woke me up. I'm not trying to be a dick but I'm at a show so I don't have time for the War and Peace version of the story right now."

"You could have just said that instead of acting like an asshole."

Soul, "Yeah, you're right. Anyway, I'm saying it now so can we please get back to the job?"

"Anyway, Tommy is living in St. Louis now. It's a long drive to Kansas, like four hours…"

Shattered Soul, "Yeah, I know, I've made the drive from St. Louis to Kansas City before…"

Choosing to ignore this interruption she continues, "…But he says it's worth it because St. Louis is close to a ton of other major cities to take bookings in. So I'm thinking we should do that."

Shattered Soul, "And why do I want to randomly move to St. Louis and start driving to Kansas City?"

"Oh, right! Well anyway, Tommy said they were looking for a couple of women to help flesh out their women's division so he had 'em get a hold of me. I told them about you guys and while they weren't real excited about your reputation, Drew Stevenson and Scott Addams both vouched for you in the ring so they want to bring you in regularly too and book us all together. What do you think?"

Shattered Soul, "How much?"

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me what they would offer you guys but they already have an idea on how to use you and even Richie and Brian so I imagine they'll be negotiable as long as you're not a dick when you talk to them."

Shattered Soul, "I'm not gonna be a dick to people who are offering me money. I'm an asshole, not a fuckin' idiot. But Brian's not coming."

"Why not?"

Shattered Soul, "He married a buffet or something."

"What?!"

Shattered Soul, "I don't know, I was half awake. Ask Richie. Regardless, we got a replacement."

"You found another pasty fat guy who can wrestle?"

Shattered Soul, "Actually he's a fit black guy who can wrestle but I can axe him if you'd prefer I find a white guy; Ku Klux Kaydence."

"Don't be an asshole Scott."

Shattered Soul chuckles slightly, "Alright… Let me get back in there before Richie shanks Mandy over his spilled juice box."

"Jesus, he's still on about that juice box?!"

Shattered Soul, "People think I'm the one with anger issues but when there's a crazy pro wrestler capping motherfuckers from a clock tower it's gonna be Richie some day when he shows up to Kroger's and they've sold out of his juice or fruit roll ups."

"God you guys are a mess. I don't know why I keep putting up with you."

Shattered Soul, "Because you're a masochist."

"I must be. I'll see you in Missouri. Text me when you're almost there."

Shattered Soul nods to nobody in particular, "Alright. See ya then."

"Bye."

Soul watches as the screen on his phone flicks to life to show him the call has ended. He couldn't help but smirk a little and shake his head. It's true, he was an asshole. But Kaydence, somehow, some way, had managed to put up with his crap longer than any woman before. He wasn't always faithful, he certainly wasn't always sober, and he's almost never been easy to deal with but she's put up with him. And even though he'd never admit it in the light of day, in Soul's own warped and twisted way, he loved her. He didn't show it very well and he certainly didn't say it but she had t o know because why else would she still be around?

So Kansas City… Hmm… Maybe God was punishing Soul for… well… any number of things… any number of things just in the last hour even. Regardless, He'd give Kansas City a call tomorrow and it'd go well enough and by their next TV taping he'd be there ready to go with Richie and their new found compatriot Derek in tow.