Return of the Raven, Part 2 - Printable Version

Return of the Raven, Part 2 - Printable Version

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Return of the Raven, Part 2 - James Raven - 03-27-2019

NINE MONTHS AGO
STERLING-SILVER AGENCY
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

SILVER: You don’t understand, Raven. You HAVE to go back.

This whole thing is starting to feel vaguely familiar, like a case of déjà vu. I dig my fingertips into the armrests of the leather chair, eyes dancing across my own reflection in the heavy polish of a mahogany desk. Jeremy stares at me from his own seat, eyes narrowing as he sees my mind starting to wander. He leans forward and snaps his fingers in front of my face.

SILVER: Hey buddy! Can we focus for a minute?! Can we handle the important business matters before you start thinking about twitter thots and shit?!

I shrug my shoulders, rolling my eyes as I lean back in my seat.

RAVEN: No! I don’t want to keep having this discussion every month. I’m not going back to the XWF. I’m not budging on that.

SILVER: Why the fuck not?! The timing is perfect! The fans just had to sit through Robbie Bourbon as the Universal Champion, hell they let the damned belt sit vacant for a month! Now The Engineer has taken control, and people are sick of seeing Caedus and Omega and Chaos cycle in and out of the contendership. They NEED you back, baby! They miss you! They’re begging for a legend to walk through the door.

I stare coldly; unflinching.

RAVEN: Not interested.

He pauses for a moment, clearly stunned by my blunt refusal. He tries to recover but it’s obvious his enthusiasm is shaken and his momentum is stalled.

SILVER: Well, uh, I thought you’d like the idea of returning to your throne… but, uh… OK. Well how about the tag division? You’ve always had fun there! Apex would kill to bring you back! Maybe you could run with Thaddeus Duke, your son loves him right? Peter Gilmour and Chaos are the-

RAVEN: Jeremy! Stop it! I’m not going back there! I don’t give a shit about the titles or who holds them! I don’t care if they need someone like me back or not! I’m! Not! Interested!

I feel the blood rushing to my head, vein bulging in my neck and spittle flying from my lips as I pound a fist on the armrest for emphasis. Jeremy jumps in his seat visibly before turning his focus sheepishly to the floor.

SILVER: Well say it, don’t spray it…

There’s a long silence, and he lets us sit uncomfortably in it. He doesn’t know what to say next; which angle to attack from or which detail to use as a selling point. I don’t think he understood how deeply I was willing to dig my heels into the dirt. He does now. He stands, rising slowly behind his desk and straightening his tie as he drifts over to the window and looks out over the rest of the city thoughtfully. Finally he speaks.

SILVER: Why?

RAVEN: What do you mean, ‘why’?

SILVER: You’re a Legend there, James. You’ve survived everything that anyone in this sport could ever be asked to survive. Why let this be the end of it? Don’t give me the same tired speech about how the place has changed, either. You were fine fighting on that roster under that management eight months ago when you chased down another Universal title, so it’s not them you have a problem with…

He never turns from the window to face me, but I can feel him studying me in the reflection of the glass. I clench my jaw. I bite my tongue. Arms folded, I turn my head and stare at a painting on the far wall.

SILVER: Good Christ… all these months, this has been about Vinnie Lane, hasn’t it?

I say nothing, my knee bouncing furiously as I try and contain my simmering frustrations. He turns from the window and takes a few slow steps across the office, staring at me with a sly smile as he knows he’s finally struck gold.

SILVER: Are you kidding me? You’re going to hide from the company you all but re-built and took off of life support, because you lost some shitty gimmick match? You came back after nearly five years, across a burned bridge no less, and beat everyone they put in front of you to claim a third Universal title… but one loss, to a skilled opponent even, and you’re done? I’ll be honest, Raven. That’s pathetic.

RAVEN: Drop it.

SILVER: Nope. Not until you realize how selfish it is for the fans that cheered you on for a decade to have to watch you slink off with your tail between your legs. You’re really going to leave them with a sour taste in their mouth because your ego can’t take going back there? You can’t swallow your pride and take that loss, and keep trucking for the greater good?

The walls are closing in around me, the air thick and suffocating as I tug at my collar and try to get a breath. I fidget awkwardly in my chair. I continue avoiding his eye contact. It becomes clear that he’s not letting me get out of this one.

RAVEN: … it’s not that simple.

SILVER: Sure it is.

RAVEN: No, it’s not!

SILVER: Then explain it to me, Raven! Make it make sense to me. I get a phone call once a week from someone in the XWF that wants to team up with you, or challenge themselves against a legend, or book you to drive ticket sales and pay per view numbers for events… and every week I have to turn them away with bags of cash in hand, and I have no idea why. I’m done with that. I need to know EXACTLY why I’m letting you run around as the champion in a shithole like WWH right now when there’s better employment available.

I turn towards him sharply, fists clenching as I stand slowly from my seat and face him nose to nose. He swallows slightly, but he doesn’t back down.

RAVEN: I’m warning you, Jeremy. Back off of this. I’ll handle it the way I want to handle it, and when I’m ready.

SILVER: You’re “warning me”? What are you going to do, exactly? You aren’t going to handle anything! You just keep running away from the XWF and hoping that if you don’t look at it, it won’t look at you! I’ve known you for ten years, James, but this is the first time I’ve seen you act like a bitch. So I ask again… what are you going to do?!

I want to scream at him. I want to hit him. I don’t. I take a deep breath, exhaling and staring at him coldly. Slowly I turn away taking several steps towards the office door.

SILVER: Where are you going, James?

I keep moving, my pace steady and eyes unwavering.

SILVER: Raven! Stop!

I reach the threshold, fingertips gripping the handle and pulling slightly as equal parts rage and desperation take over his voice.

SILVER: If you leave this conversation, find a new agent! I’m through babying you!

The door swings shut behind me.

I make my way down the hall and through the reception area.

I suddenly feel very, very alone.

FADE
TO
BLACK

"I feel like N.A.Z.I. took what I said a little too seriously. Don't get me wrong, I meant what I said whole heartedly. There’s a wind of change blowing in the XWF right now, and soon enough there won’t be a place for him on any brands roster, but he seems to have missed the part where I wanted him to enjoy his fifteenth minute of the spotlight. Go out and talk some shit, spew some racist garbage, call a legend a

a few times or something! I wasn’t telling you to shrivel up tighter than your ascended testicles and hide in the shadows until the bell rang; but it seems that’s the course of action you took.

“I get it. If I knew that I was the sacrificial lamb being offered up to a returning titan, I might have a hard time stopping my knees from rattling together for long enough to cut a promo too. If I knew that everything I said can and would be held against me, not by a court of law but by a vengeful icon that was going to force feed me every syllable once we were in the ring, I might swallow my own tongue as well.

“Your cowardice is proving my point, Nathaniel Adolph Zachary Idenhaus. You aren’t cut out to be here, running the same ropes as the big boys. You don’t have it in you to stand your ground and speak your mind like the fuhrer's you have such an affinity for. You don’t have the spine to hold your head high when Drew Archyle and I start hurling a few jokes your way, and you don’t have the artillery to fire back or legs to stand on when we come storming your beach like it’s goddamn Normandy. If you had any self respect as an XWF superstar, fuck it, if you had any self respect as a man… when you found out you had a shot at the tag team titles you’d have gathered your little axis of evil and put some sort of effort forth, but instead you’ve waved a white flag and folded like a cheap accordion you schnitzel loving fuck.

“Let’s not forget about our good friend Eli, though. N.A.Z.I. isn’t alone in his campaign of the voiceless. What’s your excuse, Eli? After all, you essentially stumbled back into the XWF to keep your benefits active and out of the unemployment line, and somehow you’ve gotten a title opportunity! We’ve got a Legend like Centurion returning on the same card, and while he’s one of the top names to ever step through the doors of this company he’s relegated to facing Jack Nation in some sort of seniors tour match up, but somehow YOU get an opportunity to be a champion again? You, the ‘Speaker of Truth’ that can’t find the testicular fortitude to speak a single word since being booked for the biggest show of XWF’s year to date? You, the forgotten former owner and unrecognized Universal champion, whose face has remained out of sight and whose name lingers out of mind?

“You’re almost worse than N.A.Z.I., Eli. While he can lean on the fact that he never should have been here in the first place, you must live with the idea that you should have been so much more. You’ve allowed yourself to plunge to unknown depths, spoken about in the same breath as Gilmour, Barney, Reno… the one time world champions that proved even a blind squirrel will find a nut every once in a while.

“I know, that’s harsh. Nobody wants to be compared to that triforce of autism, and I’m sure there would be plenty willing to stand up and puff out their chests while telling me how wrong I am about you. I don’t care what any of them have to say. I want to hear from the horses mouth, or the buzzards if you find that more appropriate.

“Tell me I’m talking out of my ass, Eli, and show the world that you still have what it takes to go toe to toe with the best the company has to offer you. Show me why so many of your title reigns have ‘undefeated’ denoted next to them. Prove it’s because you’re that dominant force, and not because you’re a flaky fuck that can’t handle the pressure that comes with the crown, and abdicates it every time. Tell me LITERALLY ANYTHING!

“Or be put to rest without a final word, death rattle caught in your throats as the referee strikes the final nail into your coffins with three sharp blows. Never to see another glint of gold. Never to step between the ropes at another XWF event. Never to be heard from again.

“But fearing the Raven… Forevermore.”