BUSTER: "Ugh, I can't take it anymore. My stonks are down and my portfolio is just… boring."
 
[A charismatic voice answers from off-camera]
 
VOICEOVER: "Hey there.”
 
[BUSTER looks up. Startled. Then around the room at the ghost voice.]
 
VOICEOVER: “Hey! Guy with the laptop. Yes… you. Do you want to protect your wealth and secure your future?"
 
BUSTER: "Yeh. I do.”
 
[A loud metal switch is thrown and the room is flushed in yellow light]
 
VOICEOVER: "Then it's time to invest in… GOLD!"
 
[Buster straightens up in his seat.]
 
BUSTER: "Gold?”
 
VOICEOVER: "That's right! Gold has been a symbol of wealth and stability for thousands of years. It's a safe haven asset in times of uncertainty."
 
BUSTER: “But I don’t want any Gold.”
 
VOICEOVER: "Yes, you do! Everybody wants Gold. Investing in Gold is easy and accessible. So why wait?"
 
BUSTER: "I don’t know. How do I know if Gold is right for ME?
 
VOICEOVER: “Because we need to wrap up the scene and word count is running low.”
 
BUSTER: “Can I think about it first?”
 
VOICEOVER: "Absolutely not! Invest in Gold today. Invest in your future. DO IT NOW!"
 
 
"Buster, what's going on?" Emily asks, studying him closely. "You've been acting so strange lately."
 
Buster sighs and rubs his temples. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
 
“You’re not fine. You’re distant. Did I do something wrong? Is there someone else?”
 
“It’s not that. It's a wrestling thing and I don’t wanna bother you about it.”
 
“Well, it’s making me feel like you don’t like me very much. Can you just tell me?”
 
Buster goes silent. “This match…" he says. "…against Lexi Gold… it scares me."
 
"You’re upset about Lexi? What for? She can’t beat you.”
 
“Yeh, I know. She’s been a real bitch to you lately and I should just kick her ass.”
 
“So, what’s the problem then?”
 
Buster hesitates, leans back against his truck, and looks down at the asphalt. "It's just... I’m not comfortable with it."
 
Emily furrows her brow. "What’s the big deal? Is it because she’s a woman?”
 
“There’s a coffin and snakes. The whole thing has me shook.“
 
Emily paces around the car and grabs Buster by the hand. “Look. You're one of the strongest people I know. Why are you afraid of some stupid snakes?"
 
"I don’t like snakes. I mean, I REEEALLY don’t like snakes. But that’s not even the worst part."
 
Emily sighs and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. "Don't let Lexi Gold or her stupid snakes scare you. I believe in you."
 
Buster kisses the top of her head and the two of them make their way into the truck, but Buster stops before starting the ignition. Hands on the bottom of the wheel. "Do you remember all that stuff I told you about my addiction? Well, there's a part of that story I never told you.”

TO BE CONTINUED...





“So, I tried to sell a stolen car to a gypsy.”
 
“Come again?”
 
“I met the guy in a bar. He said he’d buy the car if I brought it to his house. Only his house wasn’t a house. It was a compound. Like a trailer park with armed guards.”
 
“Did they buy it?”
 
“Like I said, I TRIED to sell it to them. But they just wanted to talk me into taking a bare-knuckle boxing fight.”
 
“You were a bare-knuckle fighter in a GYPSY fight club?”
 
“Kind of. Before I could fight, I had to meet with their mother. This group of gypsies all had the same mother. So, they worshipped this woman as some kind of mystic or something.”
 
“You’re making this up.”
 
“I shit you not, Emmy. So, they take me to this house. It’s a single wide trailer, wheels still on the house. They take me inside. Their mom is laying on her couch, watching The Price is Right, cigarette in her hand, oxygen tubes in her nose. She had these glowing green eyes that paralyzed me. They tell me to sit in a chair that’s covered in cigarette burns and tell me not to say anything."
 
“What did she say?”
 
“She offered me a deal. She told me that if I won the fight, she’d lift my curse of addiction.”
 
“And you did it?”
 
“I didn’t have a choice. I already committed to the fight. I didn’t think she could actually cure me, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
 
“So, what was the fight like?”
 
“They tried to make it seem legit. It was in some kind of cheap ball room in New Jersey. They had a cage and we had to do weigh-ins before the match. They were telling me my opponent just got off the couch, and he was soft and that he wasn’t very good. But right before I weighed in, they made me stuff rolls of quarters into my pockets.”
 
“Why would they do that?”
 
“This fucking guy looked like he’d been lifting prison weights every day for the last 5 to 10. I weigh in. I do the fight. I should have lost, but I’m resilient. He busted my face up real bad, before I choked him out. I guess I wasn’t supposed to win because all the gypsy brothers were fighting with each other afterwards. I thought they were gonna kill me. They took me to their mother’s house and made me sit on her cigarette burned chair while I waited. I was still bleeding at the time and needed a drink, but I was scared, so I just sat there.”
 
“Well, you aren’t dead now, so it must have worked out.”
 
“Yes… and no. I sat there for like 45 minutes. For the first 15 minutes they just argued. Then the boys left and for the next 30 minutes she was in the bathroom. The old woman flushes the toilet and comes out to see me with a little glass bottle in her hands. Inside is a glittery golden liquid and what looks like a tequila worm. I didn’t know if it was booze or poison or whatever, but she told me to drink it. She says ‘The cure to your addiction is gold. Use it for health. Use it for wealth. Gold will bring you fame and happiness and eventually it’ll bear you a golden child.’ I’m paraphrasing.”
 
“That doesn’t sound so bad. So, you drank it?”
 
“I did, but I left out the last part. She told me that gold would fix everything, but it would also be the death of me.”
 
“Like, it would kill you?”
 
“I don’t know. And I was too afraid to ask. So, I drank the potion/possible poison and left. I never came back. I never fought for them again. And I stopped drinking.”
 
“Just like that, it worked?”
 
“Just like that. I was afraid, but I wanted it to work too. So, either it really was magic, or I just believed it was. Doesn’t matter. I felt stronger, healthier, and happier than I had in years. I still do. But you can understand now, why I don’t want to wrestle Lexi Gold, especially in a dangerous match that involves snakes.”
 
“Actually, no, I still don’t understand.”
 
“I’m afraid to die! I should have never drank that potion!”
 
“If you hadn’t, you would probably already be dead by now. She told you what you needed to hear.”
 
“Maybe you’re right, but whenever I see gold, I go on high alert. I don’t wear gold jewelry. I don’t like golden retrievers. As soon as I win my first world championship, I’m getting a custom strap done in platinum.”
 
“My guess is that you feel powerless to this prophecy the same way that you felt powerless to your addiction. I think that’s why you haven’t won more wrestling championships already. Gold can mean a lot of things. It COULD be Lexi Gold. Or it could be a gold championship. Hell, it could be gold hair like mine. But you seem to like me an awful lot. So, get your shit together and take this bitch down already.”