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+---- Thread: Shooting for the Stars... First, Getting Past This Pesky Satellite (/showthread.php?tid=3646)
Shooting for the Stars... First, Getting Past This Pesky Satellite - Tony Santos - 06-13-2013
The scene opens in Tony's locker room, deep in the bowels of the Gaylord Family Oklahoma Memorial Stadium as Tony tapes himself up for his Wednesday Night Warfare match against NeoNero and KnightMask. Tony is wrapping white tape around his left wrist, layer by layer, completely focused on the task at hand. This is the most focused Tony has been since that time he was trying to finish that "Ship in the Bottle" contraption that Laura bought him as a "present" that she knew he could clearly not finish. Unfortunately, he spent the first hour just trying to figure out how to start, not realizing that the plug had to be taken off before anything could be inserted in the glass contraption. Needless to say, Tony didn't finish the piece. Actually, he ended up using most of the pieces as toothpicks over various meals over the following months.
Unfortunately, Tony has just realized that he forgot to put the gauze on before wrapping the tape around his wrist, and has now come to the realization of how incredibly painful getting this off is going to be. With a slight jerk of his head to the right, he brushes off the inconvenience as something that he'll handle later, maybe.
In walks his intern, Jeremy, who took a break to hit the men's room.
Jeremy: Sir, did you not put the gauze on first like I told you to?
Tony, with puppy dog eyes, shakes his head.
Jeremy: You're on your own ripping that off after your match.
Santos: Fine, it'll build character anyway. Why are you here? I told you to take the night off and enjoy the sights and sounds of Norman, Oklahoma.
Jeremy: Sir, there's not much to see in this town. Watching your match sounded like a better plan. Anyways, I have to get us ready to hit the road for Houston right after you're done, so it's best that I'm here and ready to go anyway.
Santos: Can't we just grab a cab?
Jeremy: Sir, it's a longer trip than it took us to get here from Kansas City... And we're flying, remember?
Santos: Sure, sure, I trust you. I'm just a bit out of it. I have to prepare to face two mental nutjobs in the ring tonight and then get ready to face the circus that is Saturday Night Shove It. You know, I thought it was some "risque" kid's show on Nickelodeon when I first heard the name. Then I come to realize that this is a real thing!
Jeremy: It's actually "Shove It Saturday Night," sir.
Tony glares at Jeremy, a bit tired of being corrected by some kid just out of his first year of college.
Santos: Sorry, Mr. Intelligent-I-finished-my-first-year-of-college-so-I-think-I'm-super-smart-and-superior-to-Tony-Santos. Shove It Saturday Night. It still kind of sounds like something you'd find in the back corner of a dumpy porn shop.
Tony sits up in his chair, wagging a finger in the air and smiling as if he's come to some great realization.
Santos: But, but, here's the thing. I can swear on Archie Lawson's show! Hell, it's encouraged. So, here we go. Jeremy, bring that camera up close...
Jeremy picks the camera up off the chair that it had been sitting on and makes Tony's face the only object in the picture.
Santos: So, I've kind of always wanted to do this.
Tony, takes a deep breath and then lets out a verbal barrage of curse words.
Santos: SHIT... FUCK... CUNT... BITCH... SHIT... POOP...
Jeremy cuts Tony off.
Jeremy: Poop, sir? That's one of your curse words?
Santos: Don't ruin my moment! Here we go...
Jeremy puts a hand in front of Tony's face.
Jeremy: Sir, I think that's enough. What about the substance of Saturday? You know you have a TV Title match, right?
Santos: Oh, to hell with that. It's a given that the gold is mine, you do know that, right?
Jeremy: It's in a barbed wire-topped steel cage, though.
Santos: Oh please, I'm a pro when it comes to steel cage matches.
Jeremy: But sir, you panicked when you found out that Archie Lawson had actually booked you for the match, you know, that guy whose name you couldn't get right, and you said something about having only been in a handful in your entire career.
Santos: Well, okay, that's true, but I did win both! Sure, one was only because my opponent knocked himself unconscious when he ran into the gate latch, and well, okay, the other one doesn't exactly count.
Jeremy: How so?
Santos: Well, the other steel cage match, which was about two years ago out in Hartford, actually resulted in part of the crowd getting crushed by a fallen part of the cage. I only actually "won" that one because I tripped on the guy's foot and fell through the ropes, falling to the floor. They did give me the W in their books, though.
Jeremy: Wait, a portion of the crowd was crushed by the cage?? Was everyone OK?
Santos: For the most part. One woman took a bad hit to the head and sued the promotion for early-onset dementia issues, and a baby broke her arm, but all-in-all, it was fine.
Jeremy looks at Tony, stunned at his nonchalant attitude toward fan injuries, but just shakes his head.
Santos: But here's the deal, kid. This is my chance to snatch some gold away from that gold hoarder, Mr. Satellite. His head seems to be in the clouds, or more appropriately, the stars, amirite Jeremy?
Tony nudges Jeremy, looking for a reaction to his poor joke, but gets no response. Jeremy is actually pointing the camera at the floor as he's distracted by his phone, having completely lost interest in Tony.
Santos: Anyways, Satellite, or, um, Satty, which I guess he likes to be called, seems to have his head in the clouds, not entirely focused on things happening here on planet Earth, just like the rest of my past opponents, oddly enough. Nonetheless, he's won these gold rings for a reason, so he'll certainly be a formidable challenge. I can promise this though, Jeremy. Once all is said and done, I will vault off that cage and nail him with the Final Destination. That is a guarantee.
Jeremy: But wait. Wouldn't you just climb out if you're already at the top of the cage, rather than nailing an already-down opponent with a senton bomb?
Tony glares at Jeremy incredulously.
Santos: Well, yeah, but what's the fun in that? Plus, that move is gorgeous, Jeremy. Gorgeous! It would be a travesty for me to not take advantage of the cage and catapult off of it! Remember, you're 19 and stupid, kid.
Jeremy walks toward the door, head down.
Jeremy: Fine, don't blame me when you miss and lose, making an ass out of yourself in the process.
You've got a match to fight. Get the rest of your right wrist taped up and... did you forget to put the gauze on again?
Santos: Damn it.
The scene fades to black.