[After the week had passed since Leap Of Faith, Tommy ended up staying reclusive in his home by himself, with his phone turned off. He was on his bed looking at the ceiling, thinking about what he did in Dubai, he tossed and turned on the pillow to pass the time. Then he looked at his clock on the wall and it was half past 4 in the afternoon, then he turns back on his phone and sits on his bed and once it boots up he sees that he has about 50 voicemail messages from JB, Sophia, Jonee. As he manages to listen to them all for an hour or two, he gets out of the bed and he puts on his robe and bunny slippers and goes downstairs to watch some TV in the living room.]
Phone Rings…
T: Hello?
Jonee: Tommy, it’s me Jonee! You haven’t picked up my calls, why is that?
T: I’ve been busy with some wrestling shit you know, so I haven’t been on the phone that much. What’s going on over there?
Jonee: Well I was calling to let you know that my daughter was taken to a foster care, since I couldn’t take care of her anymore.
T: Wait wai… what?
Jonee: They took her away from me, and now I am all alone, and I don’t know what to do…. I’m lost Tommy, and Amiee wouldn’t bother to fight to keep custody of her either.
T: What led up to this situation?
Jonee: It was about three months ago, and well… I accidentally put her in the bathtub… and you see, I ended up taking heroine to the arm to take the edge of… and I.. i…
T: SPIT IT OUT!
Jonee: I ENDED UP ALMOST DROWNING OUR KID TOMMY!... AMIEEE HAD CAUGHT ME AND REPORTED THE CPS ON ME…
T: Well damn it Jonee, you fucked up big time for yourself… Look, I can’t go to Brookyln right now, and I don’t think the foster care people would want to adopt her to me. Since, you wanted me out of her and your life back then… so now, you just need to accept that you aren’t a good mother.
Jonee: Well you aren’t an uptight father you asshole, you never were there for us when we needed you. You know what Thomas Jacobs, you are dead to m–
Tommy hangs up on Jonee, and blocks her, then call Sophia.
T: Hello, Sophia?
Sophia: Hey Tommy, how have you been?
T: I’m shocked you still got my number, thought you deleted it by now.
Sophia: Oh no, I tend to keep numbers, even when one of my old ex’s who has been grovling at my feet wanted to hear my sexy voice an–
T: Get to the point Sophia, aren’t you messing with Reggie or what?
Sophia: Well about your little friend Reggie, me and Rebecca Black are planning a litigation on him for sexually harassing us. I was thinking if he pays us the money, we drop the suit.
T: First off, Reggie might not be a innocent sob, but he isn’t out there harassing women nor you both, i heard he told me YOU coerced him to fuck you both. So don’t play that Amber Herd shit on my boy, alright.
Sophia: Oh really? Well Mr. Kidnapper, you really going to defend him? I know you got soo much dirt that I can make your life a living hell. I saw what you did to that poor girl Machina, i saw part of that PPV, and you screwed her big time… how can you live with yourself, Kidnapper?
T: Oh shut the fuck up, you know it’s all a work right?... don’t know if you know this, but sometimes you gotta separate the character from the person, Tommy Wish the wrestler kidnap a bitch to further a story, but Tommy Wish the person has mixed feelings over doing what I did to ruin her career.
Sophia: But still Tommy… you’re a pathetic ma—
Hangs up on Sophia, and blocks her number.
[By the time it was getting to 10pm, Tommy was in a polo shirt, banged up shorts, and boots on his feet as he was strolling down in Baltimore's harbor, seeing people passing by, and even taking a look out at the boat docks to pass the time. Then after that, he heads to the bar, and sits on the lounge area as he drowns his sorrows in shot of whiskey, then he see’s JB who he gives some half hearted dap and they sit on the lounge.]
JB: Tommy, why haven’t you called man? I’m worried like shit bro.
T: Man, you know me with this wrestling shit… Well, I did and somehow flew to Dubai just to be involved with Machina’s match… on one end, she told me indirectly to do the thing, but i kinda feel bad about costing her match.
JB: Man, look, last I heard Machina was still messing with Vita in the freestyle hallway or being involved with that Cannabis tournament joint, so her mind wasn’t going to be focused on retaining her strap. Plus, it was already set in stone to see a new baddie run the fuckin Anarchy show.
T: I mean, yeah the chick who usurped her was a baddie… and I know Machina ended up on her side of that fence, so that's why I just know that I see no point in thinking about her. But, still i’m just dealin with a lot of shit, so that’s why I haven’t been callin people, because I wanted to be away from the phone.
JB: Well T, I can’t blame you for whatever you're dealing with, but you know me man and I like to call you to check in on ya just like with Reggie, but I do get it. What’s going on with you right now?
T: If i tell you this, will you keep to yourself?
JB: Bro, just like what we did to those two look a like Thad and Dolly with the local crew from Florida… i anit sayin shit, so what’s up?
T: Well i got a call from Sophia and she told me our daughter is at a foster care.
JB: Oh man that fucking sucks, that’s terrible, I don’t need the details but…
T: Bitch was a herion addict, which I knew from the start since I met her. God, why do i keep fucking around with bad broads… ah fuck it, you want something to drink?
[Tommy signals the waiter to get JB a shot glass and he pours whisky down in his cup, and both men glug it down, and Tommy slams his open palm on the table, which made some of the patrons look at their direction a bit.]
JB: Yo T, how many shots did you drink tonight?
T: Ten… or eight… i don’t know, my minds just all kinds of fucked up now.
JB: Take it easy on them man, you know how you get when you drink.
T: Man… I'm fine, i just am needing to just get the edge of— FUCK!
JB: Calm down T, look, let me drop you off back home since you are kinda not in a right frame of mind at this moment.
[Tommy, feeling like he’s already made an ass of himself, decides to have JB drop him off home, but before they leave Tommy slams down 80 bucks on the table as a tip. Then the waiters look at the stack of cash, as both men left the bar, along the ride to his home, they end up talking about what’s truly going on with T.]
T: Look JB, besides that foster shit… I got a call from Sophia and she’s tryin to pull some Amber Herd shit out on Reggie.. Plus, she called me a kidnapper since I got involved with the finish of the Anarchy title match last Sunday. This is why I was downing these shots, so I can forget about those two broads man.
JB: Well T, did you block and delete their numbers off your phone?
T: Did that
JB: Perfect, then you don’t need them to bother you with nonsense, broads come and go and I know you know that fact. I bet you got plenty of other chicks who waitin to see what you rockin with, playa.
T: Nah i anit no playa, i’m just some white boy from Texas who always stumbles into some odd women or two, I got enough stories to share one day on a podcast.
JB: Oh shit the podcast huh?... Well, we should rebrand it and do it again.
T: Nahh that’s not in the books, it was a Eric thing and we just were along the ride. But, if you think it’s a good idea then i’ll think on it.
JB: Fine by me, who knows you can bring on Tana Mongeau to fuck her on air!
[T looks at JB with a sly smile and punches him on the shoulder playfully, and they stop at a red light. Then they were laughing at one another, until it was green and the continue the destination, then they reached Tommy’s house and he gives him some dap and some gas money as he left JB’s hoopty. The scene cuts off from that point…]
[…As a new day emerges, Tommy was in a black and pink adidas tracksuit jacket and sweat with a pair of black and pink nikes on. He was standing in front of a XWF logo in a room somewhere, holding the spinner Freestyle belt on his shoulders.]
T: Well last night was a blur for me, all I remember was JB taking me back to my house and me getting into it, then me crashing on my bed. But still, I don’t know why I still fell guilty over that Leap Of Faith thing, maybe it’s my undying compassion for Machina that I had to strike while the empanadas was hot, or maybe I wanted to screw around the competition in order to prove that I don’t give a you know what about nothing. Whatever the case is, all I know is that Machina lost two belts which is a damn shame for her, but it is what it is.
Not everyone can have that spotlight, it’s time to pass on that torch…or in this case tourture to others that are put in my line of sight, namly Charlie Nickles.
He makes Marf look like Ric Flair in comparison with how he is in and out of the ring, no matter how many times he thinks he can vye for the Universal Championship. I will give him some props for holding down the TV title as long as he could, and truthfully he might be a terrible father compared to me. But, let me not meander on the virtues of being a father with a sense of entitlement loomin over one’s head, oh no. Let me say that, Charlie is no better then the next scrub that can be coated with lipstick and fishnets, and being put into the corners of West Hollywood at night. Maybe that's what his baby mama’s been doing while he’s out all night using meth.
Charlie, you don’t care about me, or I care about you… simply put it, you might be better off getting shitposted by Alias then facing me in the main event of the show of Warfare. I know you're going to be all like preaching on how tough you are, and how i’m not on your level or whatever kind of babble that you and your fans buy into. I might end up being on the end of a loss against you, which to be fair, doesn’t sound as bad as losing in a freaking multidimensional match against Alias, right?
If Reggie couldn’t touch him with a ten foot electric guitar… then who else can?
Sure as hell not me…. Lord knows I can’t handle a blondie with blue eyes who shifts places like some kinda alien… or somethin…
Anyways, Charlie me and you don’t got to buy drinks after show nor hit the stripclub either, but I know that we are going to beat the crap out of one another for the enjoyment of none or all, whatever is the case if the people of LA want to get a head start before the traffic starts past 11pm. I can’t wait to just slug you down, just like how I slugged down Machina, who you know is your bestie behind the scenes; and just make an example out people who just need to learn how to be humble and sit they asses down, before they get beatin.
I don’t care if I come out the winner or the loser of this exhibition, but what I do care about is letting all my anger and hate out against you Charlie, be my ragdoll of pain and take that shit into the tenth degree. Oh wait, the lack of education is what seeps out of your brain with how much you don’t seem to know a damn thing, which is fine by me. Let me learn you how to get fucked up by a madman from Dubai who don’t need to tell world i’m insane, let the in ring do the talking, Charlie Non-Murphy Nickles.
See you in hell, friend.
[Then it simply fades with Tommy spinning the Freestyle belt, and cuts to black.]
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