An old red brick apartment building comes into view. The sound of wooden sticks clacking against each other, and shuffling feet. A panning shot rises to the 5th story from street view and in through the fire escape window. Gabe Reno is in his boxers playing golf whiffle ball in the apartment, knocking lamps and side tables over in an attempt to capture the sporting glory a knee injury took away from him in High School. He, way too seriously, jukes by a standing mannequin holding a stick, and around it for an epic goal attempt with just "seconds on the clock". "The crowd goes wild" as Reno stops in front on the mannequin to talk a little smack. It's face has been sharpie-d on, slightly resembling the adolescent pubic-like chin hair and narrow beady untrustworthy pupils of Thomas Nixon.
I guess you couldn't stop that shit, could you TOMMY!? You know, your expressions are about the same as they are in real life, you know that? Always pretending to be more than you are... why so serious? Typical Nixon, standing like a fucking uptight corporate flank, while the rest of us step to the side so you don't take us down with the ship and watch you fail. Suspended titles, premature ejaculation, this has really been your time to shine. Don't worry, I'm sure a few more books will help with your whiffle ball game... or at least, ya know keep you distracted while I glide around you for a victory shot!
Gabe makes playful sounds in hot pursuit of another goal around the idle mannequin Nixon, hitting the lamp by the wall with perfect form. He puts up his arms and falls to the ground as if being tackled by a group of celebrating teammates. The phone on the wall rings. He gets up, pats Manne-Nixon on the back, then answers the phone simultaneously stepping over clutter in the form of a laundry basket and some whiffle balls.
This is Gabbbeee?
You're playing whiffle hockey in the living room again, aren't you?
Holding the phone to hit ear while stretching the chord just enough to kick open the refrigerator, and grab a refreshing Sunny Delight bottle. He takes a sip as if being a gladiator having just competed in an epic dual, collapses on a bar chair then regroups to answer.
Maybbeee? What do you want, Dale?
Well, as was the deal with you staying there at my apartment, mom is on her way over... I guess she has another week off for the holiday break, and wanted to see her boys.
What, tonight!? Damn, Dale, I don't know man... I have a match to get ready for... and let me tell you this Nixon guy is some real... stiff... competition. Ha.
Her flight rolls in at 7pm down at LAX. I work until 8. So you are the lucky winner, Mr.Time to play whiffle but not pick up mom from the airport.
Fuck, okay, okay.
Seven, Gabe. Don't forget. I left the keys to the Bronco right there on the hooks by the phone. You should probably put that damn mannequin away before she thinks you have completely lost it, and clean up the living room, since that's where she will be sleeping, alright? And hey, stay the fuck out of my Sunny Delight.
Gabe nearly drops the bottle as if caught red handed.
What, what Sunny D? What are even you talking about?
Put it back, I can hear your lips quiver over the phone with the only sound that happens when the body yearns another sweet delightful gulp.
Gabe chuckles, then spews some OJ on the countertop.
You're not my real dad! Just kidding, but you are a dick since that divorce.
No, but I am your older brother... my house, my rules dick... put it back.
Walking back over and kicking open the fridge again, putting the D back just as all the other shelves in the refrigerator collapse on cue. His face turns serious.
What was that!?
It's back.
The scenes goes into warp drive with Reno hanging up the phone and beginning to clean things in hilarious fashion. He puts the laundry hamper away, then uses a sharpie to draw a handle bar mustache on Manne-Nixon. Adjusting the lamp shade, then fluffing the pillows on the couch. He starts vacuuming the living room, then gets into an epic battle of twist with the vacuum chord before finally falling down. He puts the vacuum away, then grabs a feather duster, moving several items on the mantle to dust underneath them, and accidentally breaking a few, then leaving them sitting delicately for the next duster to find. Cleaning the hardwood next, and sweeping dirt under the rugs. Opening the blinds, then seeing how the sunlight illuminates undusted parts of the room, then snapping them shut again as if not to clean them. Fast forwarding to him picking up the spilled refrigerator contents, then opening a carton of milk to guzzle a bit, before a chewing disgusted expression causes him to close it and toss it in the trash bin. Looking up at the clock after all of this, "5:45pm". He panics, and heads for the shower. His naked ass can be seen dancing as the shot zooms in on the radio dial reading "Livin' La Vida Loca". Moments later he emerges from the bathroom, playing whip games with the towel, then putting on his shoes. A looks back at the lock, "6:15pm". He grabs the keys off the hook by the phone and heads out the door.
☆
Reno pulls up to the American Airlines gate at 7:03p within the looping highways of LAX's inner traffic crunch. A grumpy looking older version of Gabe walks over, demanding the trunk be open, and an airline employee to handle her bags.
Ma'm, I am not a bag boy, I am a pilot, I have to get in there...
Put them in there, my son is too much of a loser to do anything right!
Gabe stays in the car realizing this will be a fun visit... she makes the pilot open the car door for her, then tries to tip him, as he exits with a bewildered look on his face. She snuggles into her seat, Gabe tries to pulls away back into traffic but she groans having not put her seatbelt back on yet. She gives him shit about being 3 minutes late, then critiques his driving every few seconds. He tries to steer the conversation back into a positive light.
My driving isn't that bad... plus the ride is free... so there's that. Anyway, mom... I noticed the way you handled that pilot back there... still breaking up families with affairs you have no business having? I'm sure Dale will be happy to hear that, he gets off at 8. Thank God...
Well, Gabriel, I have lived my life the way I needed to live it at the time... better than going around still pretending to be a professional wrestler... when are you going to give that up and grow up like the rest of the world!?
Ah, yes, I forgot... "the way you needed to live at the time" was to leave two little boys with an asshole guy who wasn't their father to get beat senseless daily just for waking up in the morning. And my career I think is what you are referring to, ya know, the one that financed my house, future... yeah, you're right maybe I should go work at McDonald's part time, I'm lovin' it, Mom...
Gabe gets on the freeway onramp, and speeds up as the mood gets more uncomfortable.
You are always so cynical about everything. I am sorry I left you there, how was I suppose to know he was beating you guys up?
Uh, by checking on your fucking kids, or speaking to them, not ignoring their calls so you can go yachting with some high class druggies that want you to pass out...
A time lapse inside the Bronco shows them talking and getting animated back and forth, continuing their drive back to Dale's apartment in the red brick building.
I'm not doing this again, Gabriel... and I have told you, Antonio was not a druggie, he may have died that way while we were making love... but he was a very sweet man.
Yuck... who isn't sweet loaded on LSD 24/7. Trust me, I know. It was the only escape I had from the memories of being fucking abandoned.
Poor you, maybe that chip on your shoulder is a good thing, how is Dale since the divorce... I don't want a depressing weekend.
After his wife left him for being a crazy asshole, I think he is doing better. But you know how he is, holds it all inside.
One child who doesn't know how to express himself, and the other with a mouth that never closes.
Yeah, poor you.
They finally pull into the parking structure. A fast forward to them sitting in the apartment, Gabe hands her a glass of something, just as the door swings open and Dale puts his coat in the coat closet but the mannequin of Nixon falls out. He greets his mother with a kiss to the cheek, then turns to walk away giving Gabe a jerking off gesture out of her view on his way to the kitchen.
So, Dale, Gabe was just telling me you are doing better... right before he went off on some tangent about how he is going to beat two other grown men at something called... Warfare, was it?
Gabe, what did I tell you about this damn mannequin? I am fine, don't worry about me. It was just a marriage, they end, right?
Abuse is a funny thing. Why do you have a mannequin?
Dale sits down with a drink and leans toward her.
I learned from the best, didn't I?
She takes a sip of her beverage, then redirects.
So, Gabriel, this mannequin... is how you beat, these... men?
He looks at her with a serious expression, then leans in beginning to get majestic.
Well, first I am going to unlock the key to the Nixon stone. See this guy has enchanted stones they keep by a lake I used to frequent as a kid... you know, while you were off somewhere else, anyway; these stones, every thousand years since his rape that cause the extinction of the dinosaurs... one stone flies away on a zephyr to become the key to beating him. Until recently, no one had found this stone. Then, a private collector somehow captured it. Wanting protection he called the FBI asking for a special detail to look over it. But my friend, Chief Ernie Parks and his lover Agent Patty Aeley staged a fake robbery to steal it. I tracked her down... and saw it, just before she knocked me unconscious.
What in the BLUE HELL are you talking about?
Why do I even ask? But, I mean how does this mannequin help any of that, what is its importance to the point?
Gabe gets offended and crosses his arms.
Fine, don't believe in it. But it believes in you. It is magical, with a golden hue that would brighten the entire world... inside, a half dinosaur, half Nixon offspring... the only one in the world. I have to somehow get it, and blackmail him with it. Or unleash the half-breed on its pap pap.
How much LSD did you actually do?
Gabe looks over at the back of the mannequin, then suddenly gets antsy to leave.
That's not important right now, the only focus I have is getting that stone from Agent Aeley, but first... I have to find her. Speaking of which... it's been fun, as always, with the judging, and the dismissals... can't wait 'til next year, Ma.
Gabe gets up and grabs a bag of his stuff to head out.
What about the other one?
The other what?
You said you had to fight two men, that was your first plan, what about the other man?
Gabe smirks for a second, then opens the front door.
Oh, yeah, Chaos... I'm gonna hit him between the legs, wait for him to keel over, then try to steal the match. But none of that works, if Nixon is not decapitated through this plan, first.
Such detail for the first one, and this one it is just gonna be that easy?
Gabe walks over and kisses his brothers forehead, then awkwardly grabs his cheeks. Then directs his brothers eyes to the flat boring ass-cheeks of the mannequin, where the whereabouts of the Nixon stone begin to glow in the form of a map.
Chris Chaos is far more of a problem than Thomas Nixon. But to pick up the biggest piece of shit, you have to swat the hoard of flies away, first. One is a Universal Champion, with accolades, pride, respect, and ability. The other... just a pretender.
☆☆☆
The following 1 user Likes R A D I C A L's post:1 user Likes R A D I C A L's post Doctor Louis D'Ville (01-09-2017)
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
The following 1 user Likes R A D I C A L's post:
