A dark day for Villiany....

[cobaltdraganov]

A dark day for heroics.
Part 1 of 4

(Colbalt sits on the edge of a hotel bed in the luxurious suite he's been booked in for a short stay in New York City. He's clothed in dress pants, but still rocking the flip flops and the I've-been-up-all-night face stubble and bags under the eyes. Lilly Maloni walks into the room carrying a suit.)

Lilly (pissed): "Really, Vlad? You have two interviews, one of them with Rolling Stone- who actually still likes you- and you decide drinking yourself depressed is a good idea?"

Colbalt: "Yelling at your boss. That's a great decision too."

Lilly: "I'M YELLING BECAUSE I'M PISSED, VLAD!"

(Colbalt closes his eyes and winces slightly. He's not a morning person.)

Lilly: "You've been running around, making jokes and pissing people off for WEEKS and I've been fine with it. But I ask you to do a job, A TINY bit of press, get some exposure for the foundation, get some exposure for all the good the company is doing in places like Western Africa and Afghanistan, and you... do this! Do I need to bring Manimal or Tom with me everywhere so you act at least halfway normal. What the hell is the big deal?"

(He reaches for his glass of scotch, warm, a little watered down since the ice melted, but still delicious, delicious scotch.)

Colbalt: "It was on this day fifteen years ago, that I met my wife."

(He downs the glass. Through camera trickery we see Lilly's reaction through the glass. She has gone ashen, and looks as she always does when she feels bad, at her shoes.)

(Elsewhere, A man sits across the table from Ashton White. there's food on the table. Ashton stabs a bloody peice of steak with a fork.)

Ashton: "Ashley would call me every week her first year at college. I was her big brother. I worried."

Ryan: "I thought you and Colbalt were cousins."

Ashton: "And you think Undertaker is really dead? That's all kayfabe. Ash said we acted like we were related already the first time we met. In-jokes like that kept us all sane in early years."

(Another stab, another hunk of steak. And yes he is talking with food in his mouth. He's the Bad Influence, what do you expect?)

Ashton: "Anyway, I get home from third shift at this shitty meat packing hellhole I was working when I wasn't bouncing and the phone is ringing off the hook. It's tuesday so I know it's Ash."

Ryan: "She scheduled her personal calls?"

Ashton: "Yep. Called everyone Gramps and Gram, Uncle Steve, me, everyone in the family once a week. She was more worried about us than we were. Anyway, I pick up the phone and... Never told anyone this, save her... it was like her mere presence on the other end, the happiness that came through when she gushed "I met a MAN" made the house brighter and warmer. And this was in November, In Russia. Not really that warm. Ever. I walked around the rest of that day without a coat on. Never surprised me that those two stayed together after that."

(He leans back and guzzles some beer from a mug.)

Ashton: "Truth be told, every tuesday, I catch myself looking at that phone, hoping it rings. Vlad... he puts on a great show, but he's hurt, damaged permanently..."

(Elsewhere, a pub, an good irish pub tucked away in Hell's kitchen. The one with Stones on the jukebox and soccer hooligans watching matches live, drunk in the morning. At the end of the bar, Cole and Butcher sit alone in cold silence. Butcher, surprisingly is cleaned up, but the tie on his suit is untied. Cole's suit jacket is off, the tie sticking out of the pocket. The bartender, a rotund smiling irishman named James approaches.)

James: "Gentlemen, another round?"

Cole: "Please."

Butcher: ...

James: "Been hitting it rather early today, aren't we now?"

(He eyes the younger men, boys really to him. The big one he's actually worried about getting loose in the place, but they both seem subdued, depressed. He grabs three shot glasses and pours some more Jameson. He sets them down in front of the men, holding the third glass up.)

James: "I'd drink with ya, if'd ya have me."

(Cole smiles, even though he doesn't want to. Butcher just nods and raises his glass.)

Cole: "To Ashley Draganov... the best damn woman we ever knew."

(The men down their shots. Cole making a sour face, Butcher adding his empty glass to the pyramid they have constructed. It's a 3x3x3 pyramid. They are quite drunk.)

James: "Draganov... name sounds familiar...

(Butcher looks up, his bloodshot eyes curious. Cole leans back, silently cursing his luck.)

James: "Must've been... 7, 8 years ago... young man by the name o' Draganov had an loft up the road a ways. Came here all the time. Hell, bought that jukebox. said I never had to pay him back, long as I kept that damn Stones record in it."

(Cole just shakes his head, as if to say "Even this f***ing place?". Butcher's jaw drops. In the corner, said Jukebox, which has been playing songs at random, switches records and "Ruby Tuesday" begins.)

Cole: "I'm going to need another round or six."

(Elsewhere, the other side of the country. A lame figure walks towards a statue on a hill over looking a lake. He moves beside and faces the direction the statue faces. Overlooking the massive property of Vlad Draganov.)

GRIFF: "Morning, girlie... rough day for our boy today, so watch out for him.... He's doing great... You should be proud."

(A light breeze picks up and Griff closes his eyes and lets it sway him. He opens his eys, and they sparkle, a few seconds later the sun rises over the horizon. A calm, peaceful smile washes over his face.)

GRIFF: "I'll be sure to give him the message."

(The camera pans and zooms, and through a few quick edits we are at the front of the Draganov estate. A worught iron gate, with a guard booth. Sitting inside, unshaven and looking rather strung out, is Shane, Ashley's personal bodyguard. On his lap is the shotgun he meets every visitor with. Around his feet are an impressive array of energy drinks and supplements. There are still a few lines on the desk to his right, a stack of empty packs of cigarettes to his left, and an ashtray and a pistol in front of him. A small tv installed in the upper right hand corner of the room blares ESPN News.)

Announcer: "It is June 16th, 2012, and here are the stories ESPN is following..."

(Shane lowers his head, and a single tear falls onto the shotgun.)

(The camera fades.)

[cobaltdraganov]

Part 2 of 4

(Fade in on Colbalt as he steps into the running shower. The camera view classy enough to be from the waist up, which kind of sucks for the ladies, as they could have totally gotten a look at his tight butt. Seriously, buns of steel, an hour a day. Everyday. Don't hate. He looks good.)

(He stands for a moment under the water, and then leans forward, resting his head on the shower wall and closes his eyes.)

(The world goes swimmy.)

(Ret-con time, of for you non-comic book people, Flashback time.)

(A young blonde woman walks the aisles looking for a book. Glancing at the piece of paper in her right hand. She carries the rest of her books in her other hand or in the backpack over her shoulders, a banana and water bottle in the side pouches. She moves around the aisles, finally catching her barrens, and spotting the section of books she wanted. She smiles wickedly.)

(Her name is Ashley White. Blonde, blue eyed, all american steak. She wears some workout clothes under a hoody, her flip flops flapping as she walks. A cheerleader at USC, she could of been the alpha of the small microcosm that was her scene, but she had decided that she was going to be a lawyer. A great one. One that walks into a room and her opponents whimper. Right now however, she had to present an arguement either for or against euthanasia. She decided to play devil's advocate. She was trying to stay interested in the class.)

(She walked to the end of the aisle, brushing by a guy in the middle.)

Ashley: Excuse me.

Guy: Oh pardon me.

(The guy watches after her out of the corner of his eye, stunned. His SC hat is low over his eyes, but she thought she caught a deep green.)

(Being such a "bookworm" as the other girls called her, instead of say "drunken whores" like she would call them, she had always noticed the intimacy of a library. Even in a room full of people, the bookshelves make each section seem like it's own cilantro universe. For some reason she found herself at ease in this universe. Usually, she would just grab the book and vanish like a ninja if there was someone else in the aisle. But today she lingered. He didn't seem creepy. More... at home. She glanced at him, pretending to hear someone coming. He had an open book in one hand, scanning it's contents, his other hand was in the pocket of his beat up, faded jeans. He favored his right knee noticeably. A simple crucifix hung on a chain on top of his green latern shirt. She had past european statutes and was now a few feet from him. She smelled salt water and surfboard wax and something else she couldn't quite place.)

Ashley: Sorry.

(He stepped back, probably assuming that she was either going farther down the aisle but she stopped dead in her tracks in front of him, seeing a title that tipped her off that she was in the right section. She bent down to the bottom shelf for a closer look. She got the idea the guy was smiling. He was checking her out! And liked what he saw! She was quite all right with that. Finding the bottom of the rack to be the end of the section she began back tracking, rising up, just as he was reshelving his book reaching for another. The same book she happened to reach for. There was a moment.)

(And it was a good moment. They stood there, so close there was barely enough room for the holy spirit between them, tension palpable. He pulled the book down and as she turned, he handed it to her.)

Ashley: You get stuck with the Thomas paper too?

(The guy smiles and takes off his hat, his green eyes look down into hers. A wry smile crosses his face.)

Colbalt: No, I'm just a huge fan.

(The title of the book: Practical Applications for the Proposed Use of Euthanasia. Golden age Colbalt smiles. She takes the book from him, their hands brushing accidentally, sparks heppening. She hears wedding bells. He hears Weezer's "Only in Dreams.")

Ashley: you're a fan of mercy killing?

Colbalt: Not as a general rule, but I see nothing wrong with treating it on a case by case basis.

(She smiles. Seas part. Babies are born. Flowers bloom. Birds sing.)

(Colbalt opens his eyes in the shower. And leans back into the water. Letting the hot water wipe the cold tears from his face.)

(The camera fades.)

[cobaltdraganov]

Part 4 of 4

(Night. Finally. After midnight. He has survived another anniversary.)

(He sits in a dark public park, home again in Bakersfield. In the darkness surrounding the small pagoda the picnic table he rests on, clinking of dog tags is heard. Goon prowls the night around her master's favorite haunt.)

(Your hero sits under the flickering bug zapper. There aren't any bugs out on this crisp autumn night, but it still glows, and will glow all through the winter. He looks up, over the trees of the neighboring houses, to the moon. He sighs and pulls out a joint, rolling it carefully over in his hands.)

Colbalt: "This is a shoot promo. It's not about a person, or a place, but a thing. The UWF Title."

(He holds the joint at arm's length.)

Colbalt: "This joint.... this is the last thing beside my lips and our children's lips my wife ever put her two amazing lips to. There was a time... ages ago, really... when we put business before each other. When we stopped that... it was like a reset button, for us. We were like kids again. We lived in Jamaica for awhile. We went to concerts. We went to Carnivale. It...was what we needed. And then the kids came... for those of you who really knew her.. she was..."

(He takes a deep breath.)

Colbalt: "She was the most beautiful thing in the world. Us. Alone. My own fantastic four... we had the kind of happiness they have in those cheesy love food network. But the credits started rolling a little early... Cailin... Ashley White never lost at anything. Anything. She could beat anyone at anything. She could out talk a promoter, she could out think ME, and she could give a big middle finger to the world for trying to rob her of the rites of mother hood... but Cailin... Our little Ophelia... Ashley could never.. break through."

(He pauses, and clears his throat.)

Colbalt: "You ever watch someone's whole essence, their entire soul get eaten away piece by piece? We found out that music.. My daughter can sing to the rafters... but Ashley... she wasn't a musician. When we dated... we went to a bar. She danced.. She had no rythym... I walk to the mailbox, I start hearing "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder. Ashley was wired differently... and.. the first time she called Cailin Daddy's Little Bitch.... she was screaming through tears and throwing the lamp at my head."

(He takes a shaky puff. His face is calm, but there is a sense of great turmoil just below the surface.)

Colbalt: "When they told me... they said they thought it was an accident. I knew better even then."

(He slumps.)

Colbalt: "They can show me brake marks, and they can show me trajectory lines... but...you see death as often as we have... when it's the person you sleep next to every night..."

(He lowers his head.)

Colbalt: "I tried to stop...Sitting alone in a house full of people, I took stock of things. The thing about Ashley... she ALWAYS trusted me..always.. when I was going to return... when i did that idiotic tournament... I felt ready. I thought, I deserved to be UWF champion again. And Ashley... she told me that I deserved nothing less than that title, but... the injuries I sustained, and the problems Cailin immediately developed... She never got to see me be champion again. To be the leader of the best organization in the World, to be it's undisputed number one star..."

(He takes a deep toke, bringing the cherry to his fingertips. He exhales and holds the roach up to the camera.)

Colbalt: "Just like I will never get to taste her lips again."

(He drops it onto the table )

Colbalt: "So this.. quest I have put myself on, this quest that leads me straight through the doors of Ow. And up and down one ladder. This quest has nothing to do with the opponents... nothing to do with win/loss records. It has nothing to do with the past. It has to do with redemption. It has to do with salvation, but most importantly, it has to do with someone willing to do whatever it takes, sacrafice whatever part of himself he hast to, do whatever is neccessary."

(His face is obscured by hanging smoke but you get the idea Colbalt's smiling.)

Colbalt: "It takes, in short, not just a man willing to act villianous, but THE Villian. One that has no more weak points, no conscience, no voice of reason or sanity. One that has no hesitation to go over THAT line, to do whatever is needed to bring home the OW Olympus Title, to the place where you belong, around the waist of a man who has lost everything, but still willing to give what little he has to make your name GREAT.

"A man who would give it all, just to taste those lips... just one more time."

(He stands and steps into the darkness. The camera zooms in on the roach, burning brightly.)

(The camera fades.)

[Vincent]