Band Practice

The scene opens up in a poorly lit room; there are guitars and other various musical instruments spread throughout the room. We have seen this place before. The table football table still sat in the corner. This is the rehearsal space for XWF wrestler Chris Macbeth’s band. We should have known that from the start, the sheer amount of empty alcohol bottles left on the floor, on side tables and balanced on the very expensive looking musical equipment should have really given it away. Although the biggest clue was the Macbeth’s UFO title belt which was hanging over the side of the couch.

The low sound of people’s voices can be heard from the other side of a door. We can’t make out any of the conversations that are taking place but you can hazard a guess that there was some sort of heated argument going on. Well it was definitely a loud discussion for it to protrude through this custom built sound proof door.

The voices begin to get louder and the sentences quicker when suddenly the door bursts open as Chris Macbeth kicks through angrily shouting a torrent of abuse to the people who follow.

“How can you kick me out of the band, I am the band, I started this band.”

Macbeth storms up to the fridge and opens it up and grabs a beer, cracks the top and takes a swig. The majority of his band mates are now in the room with him.

“Where the fu#k’s Adam? You guy’s take the piss.”

“Adam is out of the band as well”

“What! So let me get this right you guys are trying to kick out of this band the two guys that started the fu#king band.”

“No, we wanted Adam to stay but when we told him you were out he quit as well.”

Macbeth in a fit of rage throws the beer bottle he has in his hand at a wall. The glass shatters and spreads evenly over the couch and Macbeths UFO title belt. Macbeth walks over and picks up his belt and shakes the broken glass to the floor.

“Is this what the problem is? You’re jealous of my success.”

“No Chris, your hearts not in it and we can all see that, you’re a wrestler now not a musician. You never turn up to the practice and when you do you’re usually to pre occupied with interviews and all things wrestling. We want this band to be great again, greater than it ever was. We can’t do that if any of us are just going though the motions.”

“This is bull”

Macbeth turns and begins to walk towards the exit. He opens the door but pauses just before passing through it.

“You know what? Forget it. I have a match to prepare for.”

Macbeth walks out the door and just before it closes behind him hears on of his band mates shout out.

“See. That’s my point.”

The cold breeze hits Macbeths face as he zips up his coat and walks down the street to the nearest bar. He is still furious with everything that has transpired tonight. He had genuinely showed up on time for band practice, and he genuinely did want the band to succeed again. He knew all the bickering between band mates with regards to the issues they had with him would eventually come to a head and tonight was that night.

He turned the corner and the bar was in sight. His thoughts quickly disbanded when he noticed an advertisement board on the side of the road advertising “Chicago’s own Chris Macbeth” Watch him here on Wednesday Nights. The bar he was heading into it seems has gotten wind that the professional wrestler was based in Chicago and now televised all XWF Wednesday Night Warfare events.

Macbeth quickly flicks up is hood and with his head down he decides to go on to the next bar, he wasn’t in the mood for interacting with fans tonight, he was pissed off and he had to try and refocus his mind away from the band and back to wrestling. We’re not sure getting drunk is the best way to refocus on the wrestling but it should help forget any of the issues he has with what now seems to be his former band mates.

Finally reaching a quiet Irish bar he steps in a takes a seat at the bar.

More People Watching

The bar was almost empty and the barman was quickly putting a beer and a Jager-bomb down on the bar in front of Macbeth. After quickly necking back the Jager-Bomb he turns and sits with his back to the bar subtly looking around the bar at the decor. It was a good Irish watering hole a few tables scattered around with a group of young men in one corner, empty glasses piled tall on there table. This was the loud group, the young group, just old enough to drink and making the very most of the new experience. Macbeth never really had this when he came to America.

Macbeth arrived at 21 years of age but being from England he had already been indulging in the finer things in life “legally” for 3 years plus living in a small village community like he did the local pub landlord would regularly turn a blind eye to a couple of beers a night for anyone under the drinking age of 18. Macbeth had already been though the new experiences that these young men are enjoying tonight. He has been thinking a lot lately about England and seeing this tonight has not changed that. In fact it has made it worse. He misses his old friends back home, spending nights down the local pub. Playing pool or darts, hustling the non-locals who had just stopped in for a quiet drink on the way home from work or wherever else they may have been.

Macbeth sighs and re-focus’ his attention as he looks over to the other side of the bar and see’s the group of old timers. A smile crosses his face when he notices’ them sat there playing dominoes. The smile is because of the amazement that everything seems to remind him of home. His granddad and his mates sat in the pub watching the horse racing and playing there Dominoes every afternoon without fail.

Turning back around to the bar Macbeth begins to think of his life and how it is currently going.

It may be time for a break.

Time to go home.

Things have been difficult the last few weeks within the XWF and all the times the owners have attempted and succeeded to screw him over, and now with all the issues with the band. May be a few weeks back home will do him some good.

Macbeth holds up his hand and orders another drink.

The scene fades to black.


Warfare

How am I going to get though this weeks warfare. Well lets see. I may just walk in snap some arms and walk out victorious.

Only it's not that simple is it.

No not with this crazy agenda there seems to be against me getting anywhere in this company.



You see I am teamed with someone who openly doesn't like me like I do not like him.

I am not going into that again I have been there and done that but A.J if you try to cross me on Wednesday night your arm will be the one I will be snapping and you will be back on the sidelines recovering once again. That being said if this isnt one of Wally's ideas to screw me over, A.J if you can respect me enough to stand by me in this match I know full well will have no problem with these two muppets we have to face.

As for the muppets Slick Rick and the White Lion.

You both may have seen how I have been screwed out of matches left right and centre. You may have heard me bitching and moaning about this fact as well. There is one thing I will say to you both though and that is...

In every single match no matter how much it is stacked against me wether it is Wallace's stupid officials or Big Bad Leroy's Ninjas and now floppy armed Ultra I have always put on a show and made them wish they had not been in that match with me on that night regardless of them picking up a cheap victory or not.

You are officially being warned now. No matter what the result on Wednesday Night you will both be on your knees in Wally's office begging him to keep you out of any ring that Chris Macbeth will be standing in. There is no amount of Slickness or any size of Lion heart that can prepare you for what is in store for you two.

My words on this subject are now complete as Wednesday is nearly upon us and this Lion Tamer is ready.