Camera on.

Pitch.

Black.

CREEEAK!

A door opens.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

The soft heels of leather shoes clipping against hardwood floors, heralding the arrival of the man you’re all here to see whether you’ll admit it later or not.

FLICK!

A lightswitch flipped, flooding the room. Illuminating. Blinding. Six of one and half dozen of the other. We do not see our hero. We do not see the room. The camera is locked, focused on a flat screen television monitor fastened to the wall. The red light in the lower right of the frame is red. Power off.

Green. Power on. The screen flickers to life, but the display is black.

SSHHHHHHCLICWHRRRRRRRR!

Is that a VHS player? Who the hell still owns one of those? Actually, how did they hook it up to such a modern television? Do they work at Radio Shack? Does Radio Shack still exist? That simple sound has opened a lot of doors we weren’t prepared to go down.

Video cassette inserted.

Grey, white and black snow dances on the screen. Static. Soft clicks and whirs as the video machine groans to life and tries to catch the spools of the cassette.

An icon appears in the top left of the screen.

Play.

The static continues for a second longer before large horizontal distortion lines appear and old video footage invades the screen. A time stamp appears. It lets us know WHEN we’re watching...

May 10, 2010
2:27 pm

The large flight display that appears on the screen, showing all incoming and outgoing trips lets us know WHERE we’re watching.

Eleftherios Venizelos
ATHENS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

The camera shifts suddenly away from the video board to the face of a young, twenty year old James Raven. There’s no way to sugar coat this; he looks good. His jawline is sharp enough to chisel granite with, and his hair? Feathered beautifully. Let’s not get started on the smile. People will tell you he’s had a lot of dental work, but don’t believe it… just regular cleanings, and the rest is all natural. James bats at the camera, shoving it down towards the floor.

RAVEN: Get outta my face, man. C’mon.

BIG SHANK: We’ve been flying for fifteen hours you dick, what did you bring me for if you didn’t want to capture your arrival in a foreign land?

RAVEN: I brought you to hang out, dude. Fuck off.

BIG SHANK: Yeah, but you knew I bought this camera, soooo...

James Raven shakes his head and refuses to look into the lens as Big Shank refocuses. Raven surveys the Greek airport as a third man walks up to join the duo.

CENTURION: You know what? I thought I wanted to come with you for this, James… I was wrong. Fifteen hours? You know I own a plane, right? I own several.

RAVEN: Yeah, but the promoter paid for flights for me and two corner men. Why spend your money if it's covered?

CENTURION: I’m not worried about spending my money. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.

James and Centurion share an extremely long and awkward look. It’s almost as if in this moment they were about to see into the future, and perhaps save Mr. Cortinovis from a series of unfortunate events… but then Shank shifts the camera towards a passing woman.

BIG SHANK: Check out the as-

RAVEN: Hey! Can we focus up here? This isn’t a vacation, I’m here for a fight, and exhibition or not I’m not looking to fuck around OK? Let’s take it seriously.

The camera refocuses on James Raven.

BIG SHANK: Aye aye captain. My mistake. It won't happen again.

James nods his head, pleased with the easy conflict resolution. He turns around and begins to survey the floor for any sign of a driver holding a placard with his name on it. Shank focuses the camera on Centurion who snickers and begins to hump the air behind James’ back. Some of you may be thinking that’s out of character for the XWF Legend, but you didn’t know him back then. This is dead on.

CLICK!

Stop.

Screen black.

CLICK!

Fast Forward.

The image blurs on the screen, Raven and Centurion walking at a blinding pace through the Greek airport as Shank trails behind them with a rapidly bouncing camera. Soon they’re outside at their car. Soon they’re laughing in the back of a limo traveling down the coast. It looks like fun.

CLICK!

Pause.

Electra Metropolis Athens

A hotel. A nice one. A nicer one than you’ve stayed in you broke bitc-

Sorry. That was unprofessional.

CLICK!

Fast Forward.

More clicking and whirring as the machine spins the spools of tape on the cassette and images of James Raven and his two allies arriving at the hotel speed by on the television set.

CLICK!

Play.

“RA-VEN! RA-VEN! RA-VEN!”

A large crowd of chanting Greek citizens is gathered outside the hotel as Raven and Centurion make their way from the car to the door. The two of them glance at each other, clearly surprised by the reception. They turn back to look at Big Shank, and glance awkwardly into the camera lens.

BIG SHANK: Holy shit...

James turns towards the crowd, waving slowly. Several hotel employees rush out to greet the trio, shaking James’ hand and ushering him towards the front door. A few Greek reporters rush alongside them, shouting a few questions at James as he walks.

“Mr. Raven! Why have you flown around the world to fight in this exhibition?”

Against the urging of the hotel employees, James turns back to answer the question.

RAVEN: I’m all about seizing opportunity. This isn’t something I would have sought out on my own, but the offer came to me and XWF management thought it was a good idea… so I’m going for it. I’m the XWF World Champion but when my career is finished I want to be considered an all time great, and you don’t get there by running when people call you out… even if it’s outside your comfort zone.

A second reporter shouts loudly from a distance.

“You’re a professional wrestler, and he’s a pankration champion. Your skill sets do not necessarily align... With the rules you’ve both agreed to are you worried that you’re out of your depth?

RAVEN: Not at all. I’ve kickboxed and done jiu jitsu for a few years now, I’ve done some judo and mma training. I want to be a diverse athlete. I don’t want to be known as JUST a wrestler, and eventually I’d like to be able to open a gym of some sort to help athletes like myself expand their horizons. I respect my opponent, it’ll be a great challenge.

“How much do you know about your opponent? Do you know about the history of his family, and the two daughters he’s training after the trag-”

James stops suddenly, palm raised to silence the reporter as Centurion and the hotel employees continue trying to urge him to the door. He shrugs them all off.

RAVEN: Hey man. Leave his family out of it. Whatever he and his daughters have to deal with has nothing to do with this...

Big Shank zooms the camera in on the reporter, who realizes he may have overstepped his boundaries and swallows hard. Big Shank can be heard whispering from behind the camera.

BIG SHANK: Oh shit son.

Again, some of you that knew Big Shank may think that sort of thing sounds out of character for Big Shank. Did he EVER say the phrase “oh shit son”? Well, apparently he did. It’s right here on tape.

CLICK!

Fast forward.

The images on the screen blur once more as Big Shank, Centurion and James Raven are escorted into the hotel. They speed up an elevator to their rooms. Hilarity ensues.

The screen cuts to black, just for a moment.

The timestamp jumps.

May 11, 2010
5:41 pm

CLICK!

Fast forward.

A restaurant. The three future legends feast before war. Have I mentioned how good they all look? They look good… AND YOUNG! Don’t forget young! Even Centurion, who’s always been old. He looks pretty spry here. Could it be Just for Men?

CLICK!

Fast forward.

A fan meet and greet at a local shopping centre. Tons of fans. Lots of wet panties. Raven seems to genuinely enjoy it. This sort of attention is new to him. Big Shank continues to zoom in on womens asses while they wait in line.

CLICK!

Fast forward.

A night club. This footage looks like it would be genuinely entertaining, but it has nothing to do with what we’re looking for right now. Greece is a good time, that’s obvious. Maybe someday Raven will be let off the leash and allowed to go for a title again and we can see some of the good clips. Old, semi-retired, healthy relationship, stuck in a management Raven gets old for everybody.

Sorry, what were we doing here?

Oh right.

CLICK!

Fast Forward.

May 12, 2010
11:19 pm

CLICK!

Stop.

Big Shank has the camera focused on the face of James Raven. The trademark smile is nowhere to be found, and has given way to a pained grimace. His jaw is slightly swollen, a small cut on his right eyebrow allowing a trickle of blood into his eye.

CLICK!

Play.

CENTURION: … Christ, Raven...

The tension in the locker room is thick, Centurion eyeing Raven with a small amount of worry in his eyes.

BIG SHANK: You beat the hell out of that guy.

RAVEN: It was a fight.

Centurion shakes his head slowly.

CENTURION: … that was… I don’t know what that was. This was an exhibition fight, James.

RAVEN: It was a fight.

Centurion sighs and begins to pace the length of the far wall. Big Shank switches the camera back and forth between Centurion and Raven.

CENTURION: The guy has kids, Ja-

RAVEN:OH FUCK THAT! Fuck that, Andy! Half the guys I fight all the goddamn time have kids, and half the guys in the XWF would get off lucky if they got what I did tonight! They brought me to Greece because I’m champion of the XTREME wrestling federation… you don’t think they knew what they were getting? You don’t think this is what they were ASKING for?

Centurion turns to the camera and gestures at Big Shank. Big Shank says nothing. Maybe he’s the devil on the shoulder secretly urging James further and further… or maybe he was chewing something at the moment. We’ll never know for sure.

CENTURION: You could have eased up.

RAVEN: I could have gotten my head taken off. He’s not some push over, Centurion. I know who he is, I know what he can do, and Jon Brown did not send me here to lose.

Centurions jaw drops.

CENTURION: Jon Brown? Is that what that was about? Was that to prove something to Jon Brown?

James says nothing.

CENTURION: Damn, Raven! Who cares what Jon Brown thinks of you?! Who cares if you’re in his good books?! At the end of the day you’ll be remembered for the legacy you build, and shit like this does NOTHING for you. Jon Brown will not be here forever. The XWF will be. Maybe you own it, maybe I own it, maybe Fuzz or Shane goddamn own it...

BIG SHANK: OK man, let’s not get carried away.

Centurion shoots a glance at Big Shank that shuts him up, and returns him to the role of silent camera operator. He looks at James, who stares down at his own fists. They ache. They’re splattered in blood.

RAVEN: Oh fuck me… what the fuck did I do? Were his daughters actually here? Like, in the building and watching?

CENTURION: I don’t know. I can look into it.

RAVEN: Can I go see him?

CENTURION: Not with Shank filming you can’t. You can’t just burst in and start recording him after what you did, besides… you’d probably need his family to clear the footage if we ever wanted to do anything with it.

RAVEN: What an I ever going to do with this footage other than bury it?

BIG SHANK: Maybe someday you’ll fight one of his daughters or something. It’d be a hell of a story.

RAVEN: That’s more ridiculous than Shane as owner. Turn that fucking thing off.

The screen goes black. The grey and white static snow returns.

CLICK!

Stop.

The television screen flickers off. The light in the lower right corner blinks from green to red. The camera does not move.

“Hello, Dove.

“I ask you with all sincerity, is this everything that you had hoped it would be? With all of the late night messages and the social media harassment, did you get what you wanted? The legend finally got off his laurels and decided to roll up his sleeves, and you get all the shine and eyeballs that comes along with it. I’m happy to play my part; if there’s anything I admire in young talent it’s persistence and a desire to test themselves… but can I be totally honest with you?

“I’m bored.

“This is NOT what I hoped it would be.

“I know you’re the shiny new toy in the company, and everyone is very excited. I won’t deny I’m happy to have you on our payroll. The problem is that for you this match could be career defining, and for me it’s another competitor with a below .500 record, ready to tell me how I’m washed up and inconsistent and not the same competitor I was in 2011, but offering me literally no reward for my risk. You had ONE job, Atara… bring the Xtreme title with you so that I could at least pretend I wasn’t just here as some cheap publicity stunt… let me pretend I was competing for something of value instead of being held in an office all year just to make sure YOUR checks keep coming in. I did this exact song and dance against Mastermind at Cunt Fest and got NOTHING for it, and before you try to pretend you’re offended at being lumped in with him… tell me why you AREN’T in that same class in the grand scheme of things.

“Tell me what you have, besides solid potential and a pair of tits to distract the rubes with, that makes you anything more than another pesky fly that finally needed to be swatted away? It’s not the win-loss. We covered that. Stellar work, by the way. Your confidence? Your mma training? I’ve seen it all and to degrees you can’t fathom this early in your career. I’m not trying to run you down, Atara, honestly I like you… but I need to prove a point. Aphrodite Incarnate is less than intimidating when you’ve faced down the Titans, the Underworld and more men that thought they were the God of War than you can count.

“We. Are not. The same.

“Tell me I’m overlooking you. I will simply tell you that I’ve just seen this movie before, and know how it always ends.

“Tell me all about what caused the downfall of my career, and try to draw some narcissistic mythological parallel… I will yawn, and hurl lightning bolts from my perch in the XWF’s Mount Olympus, knowing full well you don’t know a fucking thing about my past other than conjecture and bias shaded hearsay.

“Tell me I’m overrated, tell me I haven’t been tested in years, tell me every legend has to beat their first legend sometime and this is your moment, tell me everything I’ve heard a thousand times or ask around and see if any of your little doves whisper some suggestions… maybe someone will think telling me you respect me is a new one, and I’ll tap the brakes long enough for you to make a move or at least not get steamrolled.

“I will tell you the same thing. You weren’t ready for this challenge. Your cute little Twitter stunt and admittedly stunning eyes will not bait a second legend into your trap.

“I’m bored, and I can’t sit around month after month waiting for the next up and comer on a hot streak to say my name before fading away until another musters up the courage. I could have won the War Games captains match. I could win another Universal title… It may be time to make a move. It may be time to make a statement. I’m sorry in advance, Atara. I hope this is everything you wished it would be, sincerely, because it will not end that way.

“A dove will never beat a Raven.”

FLICK!

Lightswitch. Off. Pitch black.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Soft leather shoes. Hardwood floors.

"Oh... and what does love mean to you?"

CREEEAK!

A door closes.

Camera off.