Post by Press1269 on Feb 15, 2016 1:33:14 GMT
When The BombTrax arrived at the Park at 1:30p.m., they both agreed to meet back at the car around 9 o’clock to decide what they wanted to do for supper. Youth had nervously checked himself in the mirror before exiting the car, only confirming what Press already expected. He was so willing to tag along because there was a girl. Press smirked at the thought as he exited the vehicle, and wondered who it was that had his young partner’s attention. More than likely one of the staff, or hell, maybe one of the girls at Johnny Raike’s Kissing Booth. Either way, it was obvious that the man was smitten.
But Press didn’t have time to grill his friend at the moment, he had bigger fish to fry. He bid him farewell as Youth all but galloped towards the ticket booth, his all access pass already dangling around his neck. Press watched him go with a slight grin. It was good to see him happy for a change. Hell, he couldn’t hardly believe it himself, dare he say it, but maybe he was as well. Sure, he still had old hang ups, and had even developed a few new ones, like his feelings for Munin, but for the most part things had vastly improved for both of them upon arriving in Louisiana.
New apartment. New company. The Park. On only the third WICKED production, he was Main Eventing for the second time, and that in its own right was more than he could have hoped for. All in all, things were on the upswing for the first time in a long time, and he was settling into the idea that maybe Fate wasn’t going to take a shot at them this go around.
As Press watched Youth disappear past the park entrance, he brought his focus back around to the task at hand. He had a response for Luke Knux, and planned on delivering it without the pesky reporter, Brandy Irving, getting in his way. He slipped the Park all access pass over his head, and made his way towards the front gates. (To see how that goes, check out Press’ RP here: officialpurepro.boards.net/thread/217/press-luke-knux)
Youth, still a little unfamiliar with the site, followed the line of buildings at the front of the park that were mostly souvenir shops, a lost and found, and the park entrance to The Crossroads. When he came to his first intersection, he stepped up to the large map dead center of the wide alley, and checked his location, and the fast route to The Haunted Plantation. He knew that Abigail had said she was out there every day at noon, but he was hoping that maybe she’d still be around an hour or so later.
After studying the map, he shot off to his left, not running, but definitely power walking. Just as he was passing Knuxy’s Castle, he came into view of The Wheelhouse, and out in front of the building, lazily leaning against the bricks, was Jamie Wheeler and Checkers.
Wheeler had his foot propped up on the wall along with the rest of his body, head down, while Checkers stood there with a ‘High Times’ magazine spread out in front of him. Checkers just happened to look up from his article at about the same time Youth came into view, and he used his elbow to nudge Jamie in the thigh.
“What, fucker! Can’t you see I’m trying to catch a nap?” Wheeler asked through the middle of a yawn.
Checkers indicated in Youth’s direction with his hand, and replied, “Nap time’s over asshat, we got company!”
Youth approached the two with a grin, thinking the image of them outside of The Wheelhouse, leaning against the wall, no doubt several ounces of weed stuffed in Checkers’ pockets, reminded him of a View-A-Skew Picture. The only thing they were missing was a Silent Bob.
Wheeler threw his head up with a returned grin. “What up, man? Hear you were looking for us last week. Sorry about that. Checker’s and I, well,” he paused for a minute, casting his vertically challenged friend a glance before continuing. “We got a little tied up in New Jersey.”
Checkers shook his head disdainfully. “Yeah, don’t ever trust this fucker with a Go-Go Diego backpack.” He commented crossly, crossing his chubby arms over his chubby chest.
“Sounds like a riot,” Youth replied cheerfully, watching the two guys continue throwing scowls in each other’s directions.
Checkers finally turned his attention back to Youth, and gave him a serious expression. “But for real, yo, on the true tip, I’ve got some shit here that will blow your mind. Literally! It’s called ‘Mind Blower’. I don’t suggest operating any heavy machinery after you toke it though.”
“Yeah, man, come on in, we can get baked, check out my roller girls, get baked, watch some matches, get baked.” Wheeler grinned, while Checkers bobbed his head up and down beside him.
Youth almost started to answer, but then checked his watch, and shook his head ‘no’ reluctantly. “Sorry, man. Maybe some other time.”
Wheeler stared knowingly at Youth. “Hot chick?”
Youth puffed out his cheeks, and let out a long breath. “Hot chick.”
“My man!” Checker’s exclaimed.
“Rain Check?” Youth asked.
“You know it.” Wheeler replied.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Checkers winked.
Youth grinned, and with a wave of his hand he continued down the lane that would take him towards The Haunted Mansion. The park wasn’t very busy, a few scattered groups milling up and down the lanes. It was a Tuesday, after all, and amusement parks were more of a weekend thing. Despite it being the off season, the real money maker being summer, the park hadn’t suffered in ticket sales. Matter of fact, with this being the last Tuesday before Mardi Gras, business was booming. He had heard that there were all sorts of events scheduled all around the park, and he looked forward to seeing what kind of trouble him and Press could get into. Maybe he could even convince Abigail to come.
At the thought of the ebony beauty, his heart fluttered a bit, and he found his pace quickening to match its beat. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, if ever, and he didn’t even really know the girl. It was just this gut intuition he had that they had shared a moment in their first meeting, something real. Like two lost souls finding one another for the first time after a lifetime of searching.
He immediately felt a little stupid when he got to really thinking about it, after all, relationships didn’t really work like that. But Fate did. He had always viewed Fate as something of a mythos before he met Press and Tammy, but their experiences together had taught him that Destiny was a very real thing. Those same experiences had also taught him that usually when Fate was involved it was going to end badly, or at least it always had for them. The Universe had a funny way letting you turn out alright in the end, but not without having to live with a thousand regrets and misgivings after it all.
But Fate was the only thing he could contribute to his current mood, because he just couldn’t feel sour right now with his thoughts on Abigail. He continued to bounce the woman’s name around in his skull gleefully, totally distracted from the fact that he had reached his destination.
When his feet hit cobblestones, he looked up expectantly, and sure enough, there she was. She stood much like she had the first time he had seen her, up on the hill, back to him, staring up at the Haunted House. It was hard for him to hide his anticipation as he broke from the path, and trudged up the hill to greet her.
Upon hearing his approach, she turned and look, but instead of the look of confusion he had received before, she lit up with a bright smile. He could feel his knee’s get weak at the sight of it before making the final steps to stand in front of her.
“Hi,” he said dumbly, bringing his hand up in a wave.
Her eyes lit up at the expression, and she put her hands behind her back as though she were afraid if she didn’t, she might reach out and embrace the man. “Hello, again.” She greeted, from beneath dark lashes.
“So they got you out here on the grindstone, once again, I see. Must be boring on days like today.”
She raised an eyebrow, and leaned to one side. “Grindstone? No, Ezekiel runs the grindstone. I tend to the workers in the field, bringing them water and the like. Every day out here is a little boring, but we make due with song and conversation.”
He looked around the area quizzically, holding his hands out at his sides. “Then where is everybody?”
“Why, they working on the decorations, of course. You know Fat Tuesday’s just next week, and we’ll be having all manner of guest arriving for the party.”
“Oh, cool, so the Lady’s hosting a party at the house. That’s a great idea.”
“Of course, she is. My, you sure are strange to be a white man. Everybody round these parts knows that the Lady throws the best Fat Tuesday parties this side of the Shore.”
Youth chuckled at being referred to as the ‘White Man’, and shrugged with a smile. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve not been in town for very long.”
Abigail raised her eyebrows in surprise, and brought her hand up to her throat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just, I could have sworn you been round these parts before.”
It was Youth’s turn to be surprised, and he shook his head ‘no’. “No, this is my first time in Purity. Blew into the place about a month and a half ago when the Park went up. My friend, Press, and I did live in New Orleans for a while. Surly I would have remembered a pretty thing like you though if we had met.”
He winked smoothly with that last bit, and Abigail couldn’t hide her smile, nor the rosy complexion that was rushing over her throat and cheeks. “I dare say, Sir, I was right about you. Pure rogue.”
“Pure something, alright.” He remarked with a grin, dipping into a bow towards the lady.
She laughed like twinkling chimes as he came back to an upright position, and shook her head in dismay. “My goodness, whatever are we going to do with you?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking on that,” he replied coyly, stepping closer so that he could look her directly in her big, hazel, doe like eyes. “Why don’t you let me escort you to the party next week?”
Her eyes went as wide as saucers, and she started to say something, but all that came out was a jumbled sputter. She began shaking her head, and took a few steps back as if she were afraid that he might just reach out and snatch her up. “Sir!” She exasperated, “that would not be proper!”
“Oh,” he replied meekly, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking a girl this beautiful would be interested in a dumb ole’ wrassler. “I understand,” he said quietly, completely deflated, resting his eyes on the ground in disappointment.
She let out what sounded like a soft gasp, and the next thing he knew her hands were cradling his face, and she was close now. Really close. Close enough that he could feel her ample bosom brush against his chest. Her eyes sparkled as if she were about to cry, and that’s when he knew there was more to this than even he could have hoped.
“I’m sorry,” she said, brushing a lock of his long dark hair behind his ear. “I didn’t mean to offend, sir. I only meant that it wouldn’t be proper for someone of my station to be seen at a party, let along on the arm of a dignified gentleman.”
He flashed her a slight grin, and noticed that somehow his hands had made their way onto the young woman’s hips without either of them realizing it. He also noticed that she felt really good in his hands.
“Don’t worry, about that, Abigail. I’m not dignified.”
More tinkling bells escaped her lips, and a bright smile parted her luscious full lips even though she was shaking her head. “No matter how devilishly charming you are, you know what I mean.”
He stared at her in a state of confusion, and then a thought came into his head as if a light bulb had just gone off. “Wait, is this because I’m white?”
Abigail’s smile began to fade, and just as abruptly as it had begun, the moment was over. She took a few steps back to what she estimated was a safe distance, and he felt an ache in his chest now that she was no longer in his arms. What was this that had come over him? What kind of spell had she cast to torture him so? He shook his head in disbelief, thinking to himself over and over that he couldn’t believe this.
“Well, yes, that’s part of it.” She calmly said, while nervously smoothing out the front of her apron. “I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from, but here, it would be frowned upon for us to be seen together like that. I mean, sure, it happens sometimes at other homes, but it’s usually kept a secret. We don’t have to worry about that here, with it just being the Lady and all, but I don’t think she’d look too kindly on it either if it was staring her right in the face.”
Youth couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A sudden flash of anger came over him, and he shook his head in disgust. “Abigail, this is 2016! If a man and a woman want to be friends, or more, I don’t see what race has to do with it. And as far as Munin is concerned, what the hell business is it of hers on who you and I want to spend time with?”
Abigail fell back on her heels as if she had been slapped, and stared at the young man as if he had just removed his head from his body. “What in the world are you talking about? Who is this,” she paused, unsure how to even say it. “Mooonnin? It’s…..it’s….” Her sentence fell short as if something had reached out and snatched her tongue from her mouth, and the expression on her face looked as if something had done just that. Terror filled her eyes as she stared past Youth, who looked over his shoulder, and only saw the park looming back at them.
He turned his gaze back on the woman, and she was visibly shaken. In a trembling voice, she asked, “What black magic is this? What have you done?”
“Abigail, calm down. I haven’t done anything.” He replied, suddenly concerned.
He stepped forward to take her by the hand, but she recoiled from him like a snake. “Away from me, you white devil!” She screamed, and turned on her heels breaking into flight towards the house.
Youth just stood there, stunned. Even if he could have called after her, he didn’t have the words. He had heard every put down, disparaging remark, comeback, and insult associated with his choice of ring name. Hell, even he knew that it was too easy when TCWF had pitched it to him, but he didn’t care as long as it meant he got to wrestle. But never before had he, out in the real world, been faced with a comment like that.
He was aware that racism still existed. Kind of hard not to considering the news coverage of Ferguson, Missouri, and the Baltimore fiasco. Just like he knew that the real problem came from both sides of the coin. Whites were no better than Blacks, and Blacks were no better than Whites. He had learned a lot about tolerance in his travels on the road, and he also knew that tolerance wasn’t enough. He didn’t much like to talk about his intimate knowledge of The Bible, having met God and all, but it promoted the notion that you should strive to love everyone. The main reason he didn’t quote it, was because he knew that he and Press didn’t really live up to it. But at the end of the day, that didn’t change the fact that they didn’t really go around hating people either. Especially not because of the color of their skin, choice of religion, or even their sexuality.
He shook his head dejectedly before turning back towards the park and making his way down the hill. There was no point in trying to make sense of any of this right now, and he had a sneaking suspicion there was more to all of this than just race. Maybe her family forbid it. Maybe she had a bad experience in the past. Either way, he knew after that brief moment in one another’s arms that he would see her again, and he had things to take care of if he wanted to get paid on Thursday. He sighed heavily as his feet hit regular pavement once more. It was time to go clean up Purity.
**********
The scene opens up to a close up shot of Youth’s face as he stares intensely into the camera. It begins to scroll back to a wider frame, and the young man is standing in an abandoned conference room, a table in front of him with a white cloth thrown over the items hidden beneath. He shakes his head in disapproval, before leaning against the table.
“Ian Wright!” He exclaimed, accusation in his voice. “All week I’ve waited for a response from you, and yet you’ve suddenly gone silent from the evidence that’s been brought against you. I know in my last promo I poked a lot of fun in your direction, but this is serious. THIS!” He points at the cloth in front of him, items still hidden, “Has gone too far!”
“You see, Ian, when you showed up in PAW a few weeks ago at WICKED#2, you made your message pretty clear. You weren’t going to stand for sex, lies, and video tapes perverting your community. You weren’t going to allow this amusement park and this scandalous wrestling promotion to invade your home and turn it upside down. You stand for honor, truth, and the American Way!”
“Now, Ian, up until a little while ago, I didn’t have a clue what the fuck you were harping about. I mean, I like to think I’m the kind of guy that lives on the edge. The kind of guy who curses like a sailor, drinks like a fish, and not only propagates, but promotes fornication! Hell man, I took a dump and filmed it!”
Youth cradles his chin, looking off camera, a wide grin on his face in fond remembrance. Suddenly he shakes his head, the seriousness returning, and he slams his fist on the table.
“But now I’m starting to understand. For the first time in my life, I believe I’ve faced true evil. Don’t take those statements as a confirmation of recruitment, Ian, cause it’s your simple minded dogma that I’m talking about. Up to this point, I just couldn’t figure out what you’re game was. Were you just trying to steal the happiness out from under everybody? Did you really believe this bullshit you were spewing? Even worse, you even, for the briefest of seconds, had me questioning myself and the awful example I set for people.”
Youth looked away from the camera, biting down on his fist in mock shame.
“But then it happened. I figured you out. I was walking around in the local market, doing a little grocery shopping, when I went down the house hold cleaning aisle and stumbled upon your dark secret. You’re not here to save Purity! You’re not here to make everyone safer, to revert them back to the days of yester year! NO! IAN, YOU’RE HERE FOR THIS!”
Youth reaches down in righteous indignation, or it could be indigestion, and yanked the cloth away from the table. There, sitting on the table, were an assortment of house hold cleaners with a label reading ‘Purity’ hanging precariously over a happy naked baby bundled up in a towel.
“Is ‘this’ what you mean by cleaning up Purity? Is that why you want all of us and the amusement park finished? SO YOU CAN START A CHILD PORNOGRAPHY RING! I see that baby on the front of that package, you…you….CLEANER! It’s all happy, and naked, and bundled up in that towel which is strategically folded to leave room for your imagination. What are you planning to do, Ian? Strategically position your filthy smut in grocery stores all over Purity while still promoting your hypocritical propaganda? It even says it on the label, Ian. ‘All Natural’. IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE AIMING FOR?”
Youth breathes heavily before settling against the wall, a look of pain and anguish coming over his face.
“And you know what the worst part is, Ian? I….I thought I had finally found a hero to look up too. I thought you were the real deal. The kind of guy that I could really believe in, and place my faith in. But this…”
Youth indicates the table again disappointedly.
“This is just too much.”
All of a sudden a banging can be heard off camera, and Youth perks up and looks over in surprise.
“Hey! What are you doing with my supplies?!?” A familiar voice accuses.
Janitor Bud storms on camera, a cleaning cart in front of him. He begins snatching the cleansers off the table, and placing them back in their appropriate spots on the cart. Youth looks on in a mixed expression; one part horror, one part disgust.
“Janitor Bud! Those are yours!”
“Listen, kid,” Bud chided, throwing a finger up in Youth’s face. “Just cause you paid me that last time doesn’t mean you can go around taking shit off my cart! I don’t have time for your shenanigans, some bastard just hurled all over the place at The Black Cage. Took a real hard shot in the ear, and just let loose everywhere.”
Once the last of the cleansers were on the cart, Bud made his way back off camera and out the door, leaving Youth just to watch him in dismay. He took in several short calming breaths before finally turning back to address the camera with determined passion.
“You see what your filth has wrought, Ian. You’ve corrupted a sweet old man like Janitor Bud, and now he’s taking the happy naked baby out to destroy other people’s lives. You said we were like a virus, well…” Youth pauses, searching for the appropriate comeback. He nods once he’s found it. “You...You’re the virus! And this Thursday, on WICKED#3 in Shreveport, I’m going to do everyone a favor, and send your ass back to wherever it is you came from, cause it sure isn’t a place of purity. And I’m not doing it for myself! I’m not even doing it for the multitude of fans out there who are just free loving spirits looking to be entertained. NO!”
Youth gets right up in the camera, a deathly serious expression on his face.
“I’m doing it for the kids, Ian. I’m the hero now!”
Youth flashes a maniacal grin, and the scene fades to black.
