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007

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BLOWING SMOKE

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SOME TIME AGO

The room is bright and completely white. It has no walls, it has no floors, it has no ceilings and seems to go on forever. Sitting across from one another at a small glass table smoking cigars is a man in white and a man in black and they're playing chess. They are mid game and the man in white makes his next move and speaks.

"How long have we been playing this silly game?"

The man in black makes his and responds.

"This one? It's shorter than most."

"Not this one. All of them."

The man in white makes his move and the man in black laughs out loud.

"Getting bored?"

The man in black slams a rook into place harder this time.

"Check."

The man in white smiles.

"I'm serious. How long do you think?"

He moves his KING out of check and the man in black scratches his head and chuckles to himself.

"To be honest, it feels like an eternity. I can't remember when you and I haven't played."

"Exactly, and here we are STILL sitting here."

"So you're getting bored."

The man in black replies with a smile. The two of them continue to play back and forth as they chat.

"And you're not? Surely there's something a bit more exciting to do...."

The man in white grins and looks off into the far distance.

"We've always played chess."

"Exactly!"

The man in black places his opponent in check once more.

"Check. What do you have in mind?"

"You act like we don't have a UNIVERSE of options to choose from."

The man in white moves his KING out of check. The man in black laughs again and sits back in his chair.

"Are you suggesting we break a few rules to have some fun?"

"Rules? They're your rules to begin with."

"Yes, and I made them for a reason."

"Don't lecture me."

The two men continue playing back and forth in silence for a few minutes.

"So, what would you do?"

The man in black finally speaks up. The man in white takes a long puff from his cigar.

"What would I do? Nothing really. Enjoy the sights more than anything, I suppose. Make things a little more interesting, too. Shake things up a bit."

"I can't just give you free access down there and have direct influence like that. They are so simple, ya know."

The man in white grins.

"Give me one then."

"One?"

The man in white makes his next move and bounces his eyebrows.

"One poor soul that you can manipulate and torture for the rest of their life? Sounds like a cruel game to me."

Not like the massacres that you've taken part in."

"I can't just sacrifice an innocent being like that. Your move."

The man in white leans in and studies the board.

"Not just ANYone, of course. Say, some that's already fucked. A damage to society."

He makes his move.

"A criminal? Absolutely not."

"Of course not! That'd be TOO easy! I wouldn't mind a challenge. Actually, I wouldn't want it any other way."

The man in black says nothing and studies the chess board.

"Some poor shlub alone in the world already on the brink of death. That's hardly a foul."

The man in black smiles and sighs while making his next move.

"If ya kill him, he's out. Game over. When he goes, YOU go."

"Fair enough."

"And try not to murder anyone."

The man in white smiles and chuckles as he makes his next move and ends the game.

"Check mate."

The man in black double takes the board and looks up to his opponent shaking his head.

"You sly devil."

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RIGHT NOW

"So where are we going again?"

Doc laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. Reminds me of old times is all."

Trevor drives a large Winnebago down a straight highway that cuts through the desert surrounding the city. The tall buildings that shape it become nothing but a silhouette behind them as they venture further and further away from it.

"So..?"

"Ireland."

"What's in Ireland?"

"Potatoes."

"Very funny, Doc."

Doc thinks it's funnier than most people would as he chuckles to himself from the passenger seat.

"Seriously man, I'm tired of sitting in the dark here without a purpose. You HAVE to shine some light on all of this."

"I thought I already have, Trevor. Honestly, there isn't much more to tell."

"Maybe in your own little vague way. I'm no good at riddles, Doc."

Trevor stares over at Doc.

"I need some answers."

The doctor pulls a cigar from his inside pocket and lights it. He puffs at it a few times before giving a sigh and looks back over to his patient.

"I was a cop, Doc. I remember most of my life up until my wife and kid were murdered. The rest is blank. What happened to me?"

"The truth is you died a long time ago, my friend."

"What? When?"

"Long before you put a bullet into your brain."

Trevor fingers the bullet hole in the side of his head.

"You mean I did this?"

His voice a bit shaky. The idea of his own suicide has crossed his mind, of course, he IS rotting in Hell, but he didn't want to believe the idea. Why on Earth would he put a gun to his own head?

"I'm afraid so, Trevor."

"Because of what happened?"

"After the murder of your family, you were a shell of a man. Released from your job and wallowing in gallons of rum and whatever else... You were in a weak state, my friend. A very weak state."

Trevor drives in silence for a few moments. He recalls everything the doctor told him back at the TOWER. How it was his destiny to stand by his side. Trevor was confused as hell by what he said, but allowed himself to be brought right in. Now he's driving a Winnebago down an empty highway next to a complete stranger heading God know's where...

"So how did you know me then?"

"I know a path to self destruction when i see when, my friend, and you were stumbling down it for quite some time."

"You needed a sidekick back then too?"

Doc laughs.

"I'm serious."

"Most heroes have sidekicks, Trevor."

Doc smiles. Trevor sighs.

"But there was a lot more to that this story even then."

"Was that fucking weirdo still hanging around with you? What're you calling him? Soldier?"

"I'm afraid not. Soldier and I were barely acquaintances back then. We both carried different agendas. Since he's approached me with a mutal one, we've been an undeniably unstoppable force. We plan to take full advantage."

The doctor glances out the window, almost admiring his own desolate, endless wasteland before him.

"This Wednesday will be the next step to our complete dominance over this FINE federation. I've noticed as of late, there are certain fellows out there that just don't seem to really see the prestige in the Tag Team Championships. Former Universal Champions and current bottom feeders will all tell you that those straps just aren't worth the time."

"I suppose I see the logic there. If you're acting on much bigger plans that I'd suppose passing up on this gold would be worth while, but when you're on a mission for TOTAL F'N DOMINANCE... You go through every nook and cranny to accomplish that. You don't skip over things. You don't look the other way. You take. You take everything, from everyone."

"Now, I've been taking a bit of ridicule over the past few weeks since my return. From Morbid Angel, from all of those different fellows in that little tag team tournament last Warfare, and NOW from you, Mister Bourbon."

"You hear that? MISTER Bourbon? MISTER President? EL Presidente?"

"See, even with my over the top arrogance and massive ego, I still give respect where it's due. This first name basis crap shows just how much disrespect your fellow peers. Is THAT the type of person we want running the United States of America? You know, I AM your doctor, Mister Bourbon, the least you could do is address me with a bit of respect. Especially considering your circumstances."

"I still, most definitely do, consider myself atop of this XWF mountain, my friend. Why wouldn't I? Has something changed? Has something happened?"

"Oh right. Miss Riot. Snow Job. I love how you all just love to keep pecking at that. I‘ve beaten well over half of the people that have beaten you and half of the people that have beaten them and in one instance the tables have turned and I'm just complete shit.. What else could you possibly say to me? Very few folks half walked away from the doctor, my friend, and don't get me wrong, I'm sure you've beaten plenty of dirtbags in your day as well... But if you think there's something you have over me, think again.“

"For your information, Mister President, my time away from this excellent organization is none of your business. That shit is out of your jurisdiction, my friend. I didn't walk away for greener grass. I wasn't in search of something better. It happens to every KING, my friend, he gets bored with his people. Plus, if you really want to get niddy griddy, there was a brief few months where XWF was, hm, on pause? Don't pretend like you kept this place running while the big shots were off trying to stay busy. The XWF will always be home and will always be the place I, Doctor Louis D'Ville, watch over. You know you all mean so very much to me. Whether it's you, Mister President, Peter Gilmour, Vinnie Lane, or Alexis Riot, wherever she is. Just because I never BOUNCED back and redeemed myself after a loss like losing my UNIVERSAL Title or even losing to Miss Riot.... Maybe I just liked leaving a twinkle in a little girl's eye rather than someone of your stature, Mister Bourbon. I DO laugh each time it's brought up, which is a lot. It almost makes it sound like you fellows are a bit jealous of the little lassy for one upping the doc out of nowhere."

"Even you, Arby Beef. My apologies for not acknowledging your existence any sooner. You have to understand, I just don't think you're important. I'm not sure where you've come from. I'm sure it's an honor to be holding one half of the XWF Tag Team Titles for... no apparent reason... but, yeah, you certainly talk like a champion. Who in the country music's name are you to place opinions on our opponents in the tag team tournament? Legends like Peter Gilmour and whoever else? I don't think very kindly of the rest of them but you, Mister Beef? It's a shame that you won't understand what kind of position you're in right now until you're in that exact position. You've watched us beat a handful of just throw-togethers. Sure thing. Soldier and I are a last minute team as well, so what? Is that another thing that you and Mister President hold over our heads? I don't recall the Bourbon Beef team before?"

"Soldier and I are the perfect team. We understand each other's abilities and respect them the same. Whether one is inferior to the other, that's to be decided on another date. It's not up for debate at the present time. What I'm curious about Mister Beef, is if you'll still exist after Soldier and I defeat the two of you for those straps. Will I see you the following Wednesday?"

Doc chuckles.

"Maybe you could answer that question, Mister President. I asked the same thing to Ghost Tank and Bearded War Pig. Will there be a Bourbon Beef after you're completely torn to pieces by the team of Doctor Louis D'Ville and Unknown Soldier? I'm not sure if there would be a reason after losing the titles. You're pathetic enough on your own let alone some fellow named 'that' trailing you. You're little posse is ridiculous enough and now you're the acting President of the United States. Pretty amazing to go from some fat nobody scraping and clawing in the XWF addressing America like you were something and, ya know, now you're the President."

"Are you so bored that we have to get into the homosexual stuff now too? I thought at least some of us were past this now. If Soldier wishes to rub my feet, it has nothing to do with his attraction to the doctor. Besides, why does this even matter? Don't you think you would hurt your little image here for even bringing something like that up? It's making me think that this whole 'President Bourbon' thing is a complete hoax. Striving for some attention or something there, champ? All you need to ask and Doc will give you all the attention you want, my friend. If you haven't heard, the doctor's doors are always open."

"I can tell you have nothing to worry about though, Mister Bourbon. You have a wide horzizon ahead of you. Just like you've had for, what? A year or so now? The same wide horizon that Soldier and I have been riding across and over since we've got here. Soldier has a bit more time in than the rest of us, granted, and whether he's been UNIVERSAL Champion yet or not is at his on disgression, OBVIOUSLY. What HAS stopped him from cashing in on the UNIVERSAL Champion while holding these briefcases time and time again? Better interests I suppose. But what does it matter? It's not like either of you can talk through experience. You've never even came CLOSE to even having an option to be something like a contender for the UNIVERSAL Title. I'm just talking about Mister Bourbon now, since Arby Beef is completely irrelevant here having no previous experience here. Even though you had a mouthful about when and where Soldier should cash in those despicable cases."

The doctor looks over to Trevor and smiles.

"Take this exit on the right."

Trevor startled after the doctor speaks after minutes of silence. The exit seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Jesus Christ!"

Trevor pulls the wheel to the right and swings the Winnebago off the highway onto the exit.

"Not yet."

The doctor laughs.

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MEANWHILE. . .

Unknown Soldier marches over one of the greenest hills in all of Irleland. He stands at the top and looks out below to find a small village a the bare bottom of that same hill. He makes his way down and finds himself standing in front of a small wooden bridge that appears to be the only way into the village.

From behind a tree, amazingly hidden behind it, stumbles a very fat, slobbering Irishmen.

"Who goo's der!"

Soldier stops in his tracks and admires the slob as he flops forward onto his face. Laughing to himself and praising SATAN!, Soldier continues to cross the bridge into the town. From around another tree on the other side of the bridge is another fat, disgusting, slobbering Irishmen.

"Now, just hold on right there, lad."

This one a little less top heavy.

"Whas yer business here?"

Soldier looks behind the fat Irishmen and his other surroundings and shrugs.

"Hail SATAN!."

Soldier replies to the fat Irishman. Out of nowhere a large Winnebago crashes onto the scene and slams into the bridge keeper. It stops perfectly in front of Soldier as the driver's door opens up.

Trevor leaps out of the driver's seat onto the ground and vomits all over himself and the ground.

"What the fuck just happened?"

He shrieks.

From the main door Doc steps out of and approaches Soldier.

"Any luck?"

"SATAN!, no. Just found this place really."

"No time to waste. He won't last long like this."

Soldier and Doc look at the small village behind them when they hear a cough from across the bridge. Soldier and Doc look at each other intrigued. The march over the bridge to find the first slobbering, nasty Irishmen crawling around on the grass.

"Excuse me, my friend!"

The doctor shouts out.

"Did you lose something?"

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