Post by hevvhocorrvpts on Dec 25, 2017 18:00:51 GMT -5
#OOC: GOL RP from last years Christmas. Hope you enjoy!!
Poinsettia Stoned.
"Why hello there! I didn't see you come in..."
Donning an old, gnarly pair of reindeer antlers(which somehow miraculously managed to hold it together for another Christmas), Hewhocorrupts stands in the corner of his modest apartment putting the finishing touches on a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. The apartment--normally more utility than comfort--has been transformed into an environment that invites wonder, and every nook feels edged with a little extra Christmas magic, a certain sparkle or a trick of the moonlight. For HWC, that magic might also be baked into some brownies sent special delivery from Miss Florence. Baked goods...of the HIGHEST quality.
Turning toward the camera sporting a roguish smile.
"Season's greetings! Welcome to my humble abode! When I'm not making the greater Chicagoland area my bedroom..this is where I tend to put my head down. Just give me a sec.. be right with you.."
Turning back toward the tree, softly whistling "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas."
"It's not complete without all the trimmings, y'know!"
HWC quickly looks around the room and picks up a burlap bag off the recliner and reaches inside.
"Ah hah! Here we go..get ready..for snow-fetti!"
Corrupts showers the anemic, miniature tree with a healthy handful of thumb tacks...ninety-nine percent of which just end up rattling all over the floor. HWC takes a bow.
"The lights are turned way down low..let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! You can never have enough splintery glitter and you can never be too careful in my neighborhood! Also got some "razor floss" from an elf I know. Check it out."
Pointing toward the tinsel shaped like loops of razor wire hanging across the window.
"Tinsel--not just for decoration! I have a feeling that my professional and personal passions have finally become one. Or maybe I've just seen "Home Alone" a few two hundred times, I dunno. I also have a feeling Kevin McCallister grows up to be The Collector, but that's a story for another time.. Aww jeez, where are my manners? Can I offer you a tasty libation? How 'bout an eggnogasaki bomb? Definitely a seasonal favorite..maybe later? Sure. What about a homemade Muncha Libre sugar cookie?..iced 'em myself.. you're good? Oh, I bet you're waiting to get your mouth around my beautiful balls.. bigger than you expected I'm sure.. big and bulbous.. uh-huh, nothing like some delicious Schweddy Balls. These pair really well with a couple salty nuts."
Hewhocorrupts hops over the arm of the recliner, settling into his cozy chair.
"Alright! The party's on.. the spirit's up.."
"Don't you love the holidays?! As the days pass I can barely contain the excitement. At this point in the month the Christmas engine inside me gets NOS dumped into it and I turn into Vin Diesel living life a quarter mile at a time. Just firing on all cylinders breathing fire and death.. or is it (Disaster)peace and good will toward men. Yeah, that's the one.. A chance to lay around, stuff your face, smoke until you can’t remember who or where the heck you are, make snow angels in the buff and most importantly--spend time with friends and fam."
"You should have seen last Christmas. Some friends from out west came to stay with me who had never experienced a true, Midwest white Christmas. The only problem was Mother Nature didn't want to cooperate.. and cocaine ain't cheap. SO, as a surprise, we managed to use a combination of snow machines, fire extinguishers, paper shredders, styrofoam put through a wood chipper and an ungodly amount of salt to turn this joint into an indoor igloo. I shit you not. We even rented a shaved ice machine for a snowball fight. What a jolly good time.. one for the books I'd say ..Speaking of books..."
Extending the footrest, HWC reaches down the side of the recliner and pulls up a story book.
"Hows 'bout we kick back..relax and enjoy a little rendition of "'Twas the Fight Before Christmas!"
With a soft, svelte voice Hewhocorrupts begins reading the "classic" Christmas tale.
HWC gently closes the book and sets it in his lap.
"May the spirit spread as fast as the fire, The End! Oh how precious..it looks like some of you didn't get your afternoon naps.. goodnight, my darlings.. sleep in heavenly peace.. 'For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.'"
HWC spontaneously bursts into song to wake up all the "Little Nickys" who fell asleep without hearing the moral of the story.
"'It's that time, Christmas time is here..and everybody knows, there's not a better time of year!' I love Christmas.. The holidays just have a way of renewing us and reminding us of what we DO have. They give us a chance to take a step back and refocus on what's important.. to stop and embrace all the fleeting moments of beauty and connection and pain that mold us and tear us apart all at the same time.. a chance to remember that where there is love, there is life.. so spread the L.O.V.E and live long and prosper.. don't wait, don't let it slip away.. enjoy it right now 'cause you never know when it's gonna end.
"Sure, I may not live a life of luxury, I may not have a coat or toenails right now, but I do have something nobody can ever take away from me: outstanding warrants."
He glances down at his watch.
"Would you look at the time! Well kids, it's been real..now go forth and eat, drink, sing and be merry! Light up the TREES and send this year off on a real HIGH note! Throw it all down and get LIFTED! I know I will..Santa came bearing SPLIFFS! The mind is a terrible thing to waste.. signing off.."
And on that note, Hewhocorrupts fires up the "frankincense" and dissolves into a plume of thick smoke.
After "drifting off to sleep," Hewhocorrupts gradually awakens to the unsettling sound of something--or someone--wreaking havoc in the kitchen. He wipes the cobwebs from his eyes and springs from his chair to investigate the phantom signal. Walking quietly and carefully (as not to alert the unwelcome guest), Corrupts carefully tiptoes toward the clatter. He discovers what appears to be a man torso-deep in the fridge, digging frantically for something to eat. While the intruder is preoccupied throwing food all over the floor like E.T., Corrupts takes the chance to sneak up behind him like Snake Plissken.
..HWC gets the jump on him..
"Hellooo, assclown!"
Grabbing a clump of hair, he pulls his head out of the refrigerator and sinks in a deep choke before the stranger knows what hit him. After a brief struggle, HWC manages to incapacitate him.
"Well this is awkward. Lucky for me this isn't my first rodeo..very unlucky for you, however. Your luck hasn't run out yet, though.. I'm wearing pajamas! Normally I sleep naked.. BUCK naked! Ha! So who are you, and what the FUCK are you doing in my place?! You can't possibly be St. Nick..I mean he comes bearing gifts.. and you?.. you burgled me, dude! That was a rude thing. That makes you a Wet Bandit--'This is my house, I have to defend it.' ..Now SHUT UP!.. and tell me everything you know!"
Without even giving him a chance to answer, Corrupts constricts the choke to the point where speech is no longer possible--a strange choice of tactics if you're looking to get answers... The unknown man clutches his arms attempting to break the hold. Corrupts thinks he's playing with a new toy...
"SHUT UP!.. and tell me everything you know! ..'I'll tell you what I'm gonna give you, Snakes. I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellah, no-good keister off my property.. before I pump your guts full of lead!'"
Just as those words roll off his tongue, the man slips out of the choke like Hardeen from a straight jacket and puts Hewhocorrupts on his back with a headlock takeover. The tables have turned and HWC finds himself crushed under the weight of an old man who bears a striking resemblance to Martin Landau. The two end up face to face on the kitchen floor.
"Well this is awkward."
INTRUDER: "Lesson one: never let go until you hear bones break, cartilage snap or they crap in their pants!"
CORRUPTS: "Yeah that sounds like a lot of fun, but you wanna tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing here first?!"
INTRUDER: "Screw you, that's my name. Now say it! Or prepare to die waste case!"
HWC strains to catch his breath.
CORRUPTS: "Say what?! What do you want?! You already ate all my food! Jeez, you're spry..you got that crazy old man strength, huh..you must draw energy from jousting windmills. Maybe I can just flex-a-bust outta here, whatya think?"
HWC tries to squirm free.
CORRUPTS: "Nope."
INTRUDER: "Alas, it's no use my dim-witted friend, for it is you who is tilting at windmills. Now say it!"
CORRUPTS: "Merry Christmas?"
The strange and violent fellow picks up a half-eaten pudding cup lying next to him and empties it into Corrupts' mouth; similar to waterboarding but a much tastier form of torture.With a mouthful of chocolate pudding HWC fires back..
CORRUPTS: "And a happy new year?"
INTRUDER: "Boy, you're about as sharp as a bag a socks. Try again."
Corrupts takes the biggest breath he can and spits pudding all over the stranger's face.
CORRUPTS: 'Keep the change ya filthy animal!'
INTRUDER: "Tough guy, huh? Yeah..you're about as tough as a papercut; soft as baby poop on a warm summer day. Stand down, you son of a bitch!"
CORRUPTS: "Elf you!"
The stranger delivers a piercing shot to the body with his knee.
CRRACKK!!!
CORRUPTS: "That's a rib! That's a full rack a ribs right there.. son of a nutcracker.. aren't you full yet?! When was the last time you ate?!"
INTRUDER: "Can you say it now? Last chance saloon.."
The Southsider chokes down the last of his dessert.
CORRUPTS: "I'm your bitch and you're my daddy."
INTRUDER: "That's the one! I would've also accepted, 'I tap.' But I've been told that's not really a phrase in your vocabulary."
The mystery man hops up and extends his hand to Hewhocorrupts.
INTRUDER: "SAL BANDINI! Wanna wrestle?!"
Sal grabs HWC's hand and pulls him up to the sound of candy canes crunching underfoot.
SAL: "You made the right decision, kid..you don't know how close you were to getting a candy cane up your chimney."
CORRUPTS: "Yikes! That's uh, really taking the season of giving to an uncomfortable, new LOW. I mean, I'm grateful you didn't mention anything about licking it to a point first, but..is that what's goin' on here? Did you escape from Cook County just to shank me in the prison wallet? Please God say no.. and please GOD don't interpret anything I just said as a euphemism or innuendo."
His remarks draw out a roar of laughter from the old man.
SAL: "Rest easy friend, you have nothing to fear. Y'know, I like your style, kid..but you still have much to learn. Lesson two: possum ain't dead 'til it's scraped off the road."
CORRUPTS: "Did you have to squash the possum's nuts first? Speaking of dead, I thought you were gonna piece me up back there.. drive me out to the middle of nowhere, leave me for dead. Do you meet people this way often?"
SAL: "I could ask you the same thing, you don't seem concerned at all with having a complete stranger standing in your kitchen. This doesn't bother you?"
CORRUPTS: "Ain't shook. Besides, comes with the territory. In this neighborhood, everyone's fighting for their food. Judging by the culinary carnage in here, we just had a harmless food fight.. so in the spirit of the season.. no harm, no foul. Like I always say, keep calm and clean it with fire."
Brushing scraps of food off his "Shit happens when you party naked" t-shirt and wiping the pudding from his face...
CORRUPTS: "SO, if you're not on death row and here to eat me like a steak for your last meal..then what's up, guy? Was the homeless shelter full, or is there another reason you decided to break in my apartment and "Wreck The Halls" dressed like Cousin Eddie?"
SAL: "Amusing..not too bright though. I'll give it to ya, ya got guts, kid..but in the brains department, you're like a man who takes a high dive in a low well."
Sal clears his throat. His voice becomes silky smooth; singularly low, as if instead of being so close, it were at a distance.
SAL: "I am The Ghost of Guerreros Past!"
Without batting an eye...
CORRUPTS: "Well what heck do you want with me? I'm no Scrooge McDuck."
Marveling at the refreshingly odd and beautiful Christmas decorations, Bandini blurts out..
SAL: "Oh, it's obvious there's no shortage of Christmas spirit in here..good thing too, we can't have Krampus crashin' the Christmas party and poopin' in the punch bowl--hold on a sec. Are you ok? Reason I ask is..usually when I say I'm The Ghost of Guerreros Past.. most wrestlers look at me like I'm full blown nutsoid. They're like, 'Uh, you're clearly disturbed and really scaring me with the stuff that's happening right now. Can we take a direct flight back to reality, or do we have to change planes in Denver?' But I'm not really gettin' that vibe from you. You seem relatively unfazed."
CORRUPTS: "What's the problem, you're like The Ghost of Christmas Past. Gotcha. Can we get on with the maneuvers now?"
SAL: "Uh, sure..that was easy.."
CORRUPTS: "No qualms here, out and about with your crazy.. I find it very liberating."
SAL: "OK! OK! Alright! That's great, I can work with that. By the way, I sincerely apologize about the mess. It was not my intent in the slightest. I'm not sure what came over me.. I'm trying one of those amazing brownies one minute..the next, the whole plate's gone and I'm raiding your fridge like that damn sasquatch in "Harry and the Hendersons".
CORRUPTS: "You ate all the brownies?! Jiminy Christmas! Some of those were for Santa ya dingus!"
SAL: "That's what I'm sayin', kid. I thought to myself, 'I just ate a whole plate of brownies, why do I feel even hungrier than before?'"
SAL: "Hate to break more bad news but you're outta leche too, kid. He'll have to settle for bourbon instead! NO! That won't work, Santa doesn't drink.. he's gotta drive a sleigh."
CORRUPTS: "You're so right.. that would be very irresponsible..."
Sal shuffles around the kitchen, clutching at walls, trying not to trip over himself. Nearly falling.
SAL: "WHOA, there's all types a gravity in here.."
CORRUPTS: "I should be the one asking if you're ok! Those were laced.. I mean baked with enough HOLIDAY CHEER to power Santa's sleigh! Good shit, huh?"
SAL: "Y'know..back in my day Christmas meant something! Nowadays it's just, 'Hey could you email me dinner!', 'Could you fax me a hug!', 'Text me, text me, text me.' Why don't you write a letter you dummy!"
Laughing...
CORRUPTS: "To who?"
SAL: "You, me, Santa, I don't give a damn.. that's another thing! Kids today don't even leave Santa milk and cookies anymore! Y'know! It's almond milk and instagraham crackers.."
Shouting...
SAL: "FELIZ NAVI-DON'T! HA! Put that on your iPad and smoke it!"
Corrupts cracks up.
CORRUPTS: "Easy there Bandini, maybe take another lap around the kitchen.. walk it off, buddy."
Snickering under his breath, he hands Sal a glass of water.
SAL: "These kids today.. all they care about.. 'Is this tinsel grass fed?', 'Can I have a BLAT salad with rainbow Swiss chard and a seaweed lozenge, please.'"
CORRUPTS: "Dr. Brule says meatloaf's good for your bones..."
SAL: "PS4!, XBOX One!, PS4!, XBOX One!, humanity ZERO!"
Corrupts loses it.
SAL: "Where's the justice, kid? A reindeer runs over Grandma, he gets his own song.. I run over one nativity scene and I have to change churches.."
Sal, slurring his words and having a hard time controlling his emotions, abruptly starts whimpering but snaps out of it almost as quickly as the tears came. Suddenly, he dumps the whole glass of water out on the floor so he can use it as a microphone to bust out a few bars from Seal's classic song "Crazy".
SAL: "'No we're never gonna survive! UNLESS.. we get a little.. CRAY-ZAY!' Alright, alright. So, I'm not a Miracle on 34th Street, ok..so I don't have a corncob pipe and button nose ok.. so we'll never be Royals, ok.. THAT'S NOT ME!"
CORRUPTS: "Hey, it's ok, bud. Just let it out. Relax. Breathe."
SAL: "You know what I like though? That sexy, green M&M lady, uh huh.. c'mon you've thought about it..."
CORRUPTS: "Alright, let's just go into the living room, I think you need to sit the next few periods out, champ.. those brownies are kickin' your ass.. enough "figgy pudding" for you tonight. Here, gimme your arm I'll help you to the recliner."
SAL: "Now bring me some figgy pudding, now bring me some figgy pudding.. I have to eat!, so I can take my back pill.."
CORRUPTS: "That's enough binge eating for tonight, pal."
SAL: "Back in my day, binging was buying a four dollar whore and waking up with your balls on backwards.."
After a couple hours and a number of interesting conversations later, Sal Bandini has leveled out and the two are much better acquainted after comparing scars like Quint and Hooper in "Jaws".
SAL: "..and that's what really happened in Vietnam."
CORRUPTS: "I don't understand.."
SAL: "Neither do I."
CORRUPTS: "Next time, let's try telling a Christmas story where no one gets caught in a fire fight or covered in napalm until their skin peels away like the top of a grilled cheese. Maybe something a little more traditional.. something that doesn't shatter the magic of Christmas."
SAL: "Deal. And trust me, after tonight, you can take all your Tiny Tims and your Grinches and your Miracles on Whatever Street and stuff them in your stocking. After tonight, you'll have your own Christmas story to tell... Well, Hewhocorrupts, I think the brownies are finally wearing off. I should be ok to fly. But there's something important I need to show you before the night's over. Hold on to your "Jingle Bells" kid, 'cause it only gets weirder from here..."
Just then, Sal reaches out to Hewhocorrupts, grips his hand and tosses him through the window!
...Through the looking glass.. where time often seems suspended, facts and fables merge and diverge, and memory melts either into a golden longing or the blessed fog of denial...
Hewhocorrupts suddenly crash lands face first in the freezing snow, brain half frostbitten, gasping cold, dry air that makes his throat feel like a dentist left that saliva sucker thing in while on a phone call. Clambering to his feet and shaking off the snow, Corrupts surveys his surroundings only to realize he's standing in the backyard of the house where he grew up. At that very moment, it all starts to register and everything clicks like tumblers in a lock.
The landscape is embedded with memories of the former lives that were lived there; ghosts that both define and haunt it's identity.
CORRUPTS: "Curiouser and curiouser.."
SAL: "Surprised?"
CORRUPTS: "Bandini, I wouldn't be more surprised if I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet. So this is my past, huh?"
SAL: 'You may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with you.'
The old man lifts his nose up in the air, inhaling deeply.
SAL: "Oh, the silent majesty of a winter's morn..the clean, cool chill of the holiday air. Do you remember this day?"
CORRUPTS: "Hey, I may vape the day away, but I'm still as sharp as the edge on Jack Torrance's axe--I think I can remember my own past. Let's see..come to think of it, this looks eerily similar to a day on winter break. There was this insane blizzard the night before that left behind a fresh mattress of waist-high snow. Thanks for letting me grab a coat by the way..."
SAL: "Frolic and play, the Eskimo way.."
CORRUPTS: "And I really enjoyed being thrown out my own window, too. I expected time travel to come with its fair share of turbulence, but why not try a can of Chernobly and a nice hot tub next time.."
SAL: "Like a birth in reverse..and hey, at least I opened the window first! Let me tell ya, some aren't so fortunate!"
CORRUPTS: "Anyways..it was one of those days you live for as a kid. Schools close, roads disappear, grown men weep. Anything can happen on a day like that..this? I'll get it.."
Adjusting to the oddities of time travel...
CORRUPTS: "But we just did what we always did--wrestle! My buddy, Drew, came over, we cleared off the trampoline and had a match in the snow 'til our toes nearly froze off! Rain, sleet or snow..win, lose and broken bones. I guess some things never change. Definitely another one for the books. And for the record--it was no ordinary backyard wrestling match..it was a buried alive...SNOWCOPHAGUS MATCH!"
HWC cups his hands over his mouth to simulate the roar of the crowd.
Sal reaches down to run his hand through the fresh powder.
SAL: "This is where it all began, kid. A day that left an indelible imprint on your life and laid the foundation for what was to come. Just as the cold acts as a catalyst to change water into this snow here; this moment helped solidify your love of wrestling and transform you into who you are. A cosmic confluence of events; a perfect storm. One that yielded some pretty brilliant results. Take a look for yourself.."
SAL: "Exhibit A: the back handspring moonsault off the tram-bamp-oline."
Suddenly, his twelve year old self magically materializes, rushing into view along with all the memories. Racing from one end of the trampoline to the other, Mini-Corrupts plants his hands and hurls himself into the wild white yonder. Hewhocorrupts may have been standing in a heap of snow, but he was all warm and fuzzy inside, basking in the halcyon glow of nostalgia. A fervent flood of emotion crystallizing in every nerve ending as he watched HIMSELF crash into his friend and sink into the shimmering snow. The salad days; happy golden days of yore. The temperature had not changed but it somehow felt warmer.
CORRUPTS: "Look at these little miscreants."
SAL: "Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow..beating the shit out of each other, knee deep in snow.. That's the type of improvisation and adaptability that's always served you well. Then and now.. Now turn your attention to Exhibit B: The crotch chop elbow drop off the top of the shed!"
Corrupts shifts his focus to "The Barn": a big wooden shed painted green and white in the corner of the yard that doubled as a clubhouse. He tilts his head up to see HIMSELF dive off the top of The Barn and plummet down onto his old friend Drew with a massive elbow. They plunge deep into the snow and disappear like in one of those commercials where they drop a bowling ball onto a feather pillow. Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh.
Corrupts jumps up and down with impish glee.
CORRUPTS: "WITNESS! 'In the suburbs I.. I learned to fly.. and they told me we'd never survive..'"
SAL: "In the space between life and death, that's where you're the most alive; the most comfortable. This moment exemplifies your ferocious and fearless, no limits attitude. Not always the smartest approach, but it sure is fun to watch, I'll give you that! 'It's not about winning, it never was. Just show them how to play. Show them how to have fun. Teach them to fly!'"
CORRUPTS: "Good one, Bandini! Love me some Mighty Ducks. Wait! That gives me an idea. You wanna do the shit purse prank? Just for old times sake?"
Casting a mischievous smirk...
SAL: "Maybe next year, kid..right now, direct your gaze towards the other corner of this winter wonderland for Exhibit C: BURIED ALIVE!"
With (Death)stars in his eyes...
CORRUPTS: "This is my favorite part! At this point I can't feel my body at all and my eyes are practically frozen shut like Audrey's in "Christmas Vacation"
There's a large pit dug out of the snow in the opposite corner of the yard where the garden used to grow. The last resting place of the poor soul who gets left out in the cold; a grave for the NEARLY departed. Mini-Corrupts and Drew battle along the fence lined with tiny shrub oaks, momentum constantly shifting with every attack and reversal. As they reach the edge of the pit, Mini-Corrupts gets back body dropped into the SNOWCOPHAGUS! Drew wastes no time tossing shovel fulls of icy, bone-chilling slush on top of him until he's completely covered.
Looking at his watch like Harry and Marv casing houses, waiting for the interior lights to automatically switch on...
CORRUPTS: "Wait a minute, wait a minute...NOW!"
Right on cue, a frozen hand sprouts from the grave.
He quickly scrambles out, grabs the grave digger's (snow)shovel and brings it down across Drew's back. With his friend doubled over, Mini-Corrupts takes the chance to piledrive him right into the pit! There was an eager, hopeful, restless motion in his eye that showed the passion that had taken root here. HWC's heart and soul were also rooted in this place, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest sensation. It was not until now, when the bright face of his younger self turned from them that he realized...
CORRUPTS: "Sometimes you never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory."
Mini-Corrupts delivers the last rites as he fills in the grave; a true friend. When he's done, he spikes the shovel in the snow--the cherry on top, the nail in the coffin signifying the end of their wicked campaign.
SAL: "Oh, my ecstatic pummeler of faces and splitter of skulls, nothing brings you BACK to life like the bringing of death! This scene reflects your killer instinct and reveals your will to survive against all odds. It's bizarre how much joy you get from doling out and absorbing such a sickening amount of punishment.. I mean, you must be touched by the fist of God, son!"
CORRUPTS: "Goonies never say die and big girls don't cry."
SAL: "Take notice Guerreros of Lucha! The hand that reaches from the grave to grip your throat is the strong hand you want on the wheel. And Tecnicos--take heed. Better tread lightly 'cause you're walkin' on some mighty thin ice. If it's a villain you want this year, consider your Christmas wish fulfilled--Hewhocorrupts' self-destructive spirit fills up the monster mask and then some. But be careful what you wish for. My new friend here has weathered the storm, now he's ready to be one!"
Corrupts croons a little tune...
CORRUPTS: "Hurtin' so long..that our pleasure is our pain. Madly in love, madly insane."
SAL: "Oh Mylanta, you're already running late, we don't have much time."
CORRUPTS: "Are you all done melting my heart, ol' buddy, ol' Sal?"
SAL: "Just be sure to let this moment stay frozen in your mind, Corrupts, so you can always remember where you came from. Never forget who you are. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you. I know Guerreros aren't supposed to show their hearts until the axe reveals it, but hey, I guess I've taken a real shine to you."
CORRUPTS: "Thanks, man. I'm gonna miss you too, Sal. Take care of yourself out there."
SAL: "Don't worry about me! Clean the bong resin out of your ears and listen to me--and this is my final lesson: always attack a man's strengths."
CORRUPTS: "Uh, don't you mean weaknesses? You sure you're not still feelin' those brownies, bud?"
SAL: "No, I mean strengths! No one ever expects you to attack the strongest part of the fort. Up the middle, that's where the action is and it's the same in life. You gotta go into the blue paint if you wanna score goals. Look, I know you got demon's but don't run away, attack 'em head on.. at full speed, 'cause that my friend, is living. And judging by what I've seen here, you'll do just fine, kid. Stay strong in the ways of the pass-a-fist and may you be happy in the life you've chosen, I know you're enemies will not..."
They are suddenly separated by a blistering snowblind that rips between them and they soon fade from sight.
...My God, it's full of stars...
Was it a nervous breakdown? A lucid dream? Rosetta Stoned? Did he take the red pill and go down the rabbit hole?
Back in his apartment, Hewhocorrupts wakes up and before he's even conscious of how exhausted he is, he hears something moving around on the rooftop. Based on the heavy crunch, it sounds like something BIG. He instantly remembers Sal saying something about him being late...but late for what exactly? He snags a few gulps of water out of the tap before heading up to see what else the night has in store.
There's a sign on the roof-access door that says its been closed for repairs and it's dated almost two years ago. Per ushe, he pries it open. The cold greets him with a scathing kiss; he zips up his jacket and throws on a cap.
CORRUPTS: "OK, so that mystery's solved."
Just when he thought the evening couldn't get any weirder...
CORRUPTS: "Did someone lose a giant, menacing, armor-clad warrior horse?"
This horse was so massive and intimidating it might as well have been a dinosaur. In the bitter cold, its breath shoots out like the hot exhaust of a jet airplane. Its luxurious coat is so black it virtually vanishes against the backdrop of the night sky; blacker than black, "Attack the Block" style. Trust.
VISITOR 2: "Come closer! Come closer, and know me better, man. I am The Ghost of Guerreros Present."
HWC treks cautiously through the dense snow.
CORRUPTS: "A talking, anthropomorphic horse. Why not."
VISITOR 2: "Giddy-up, Corrupts! Pick up your feet! You and that old bitch hog, Sal Bandini already took your sweet ass time and now we're behind schedule."
CORRUPTS: "Kept you waiting, huh? Sorry about that..punctuality was never my strong suit, plus, Old Sally girl got pretty TWISTED and needed some extra time to unwind.."
VISITOR 2: "Well, we better get moving. You don't wanna keep him waiting."
CORRUPTS: "Keep who waiting?"
VISITOR 2: "You'll see."
HWC is dwarfed by the majestic creature looming over him.
VISITOR 2: I'm Jingle Horse, by the way."
The Lady's mane was of deep gold and silver, long and bright; but no sign of age was upon her, unless it were in the depths of her eyes. They were keen as lances in the starlight, and yet profound; the wells of deep memory.
CORRUPTS: "Pleasure to meet you, ma lady. Oh, I get it now..pick up your feet? Giddy-up Jingle horse?! No wonder you're in a hurry, you wanna get back to Jingling around the clock! I don't blame you when it's such a bright time, such a right time..to rock the night away.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Are you gonna do this all night?"
CORRUPTS: "I guess that's the way the Jingle Bell Rock crumbles."
Noticing the bells hanging from her incredibly ornate Christmas sweater...
CORRUPTS: "Ohhh, now I get why you're named Jingle Horse, it's this ravishing ensemble you have on here. Where'd you get this festive little number?"
JINGLE HORSE: "How kind of you to ask. Believe it or not, I knitted it myself."
CORRUPTS: "Dang! Well, you're obviously no one trick pony."
JINGLE HORSE: "Knock it off!"
Throwing his hands up...
CORRUPTS: "Hey, I'll play the game, angel face. You just gotta tell me the rules."
JINGLE HORSE: "What took you guys so long anyway?"
CORRUPTS: "We shared a bowl of sugar, did some shots of brown liquor, played with my shot guns, field-dressed a cat, looked for women.. I'm kidding! C'mon what do you think we did? We rejoiced in the spirit of Christmas and pro wrestling! We had a great time."
JINGLE HORSE: "I suppose it's easy to get held up with Sal blowing all that smoke up your ass."
CORRUPTS: "I kinda was starting to feel trapped in all that happiness.. but I have to admit it kinda freaked me out when I first saw you. You looked a heckuva lot like Death Dealer's battle horse aside from the sweater. Your deep breaths looked like a rifle's smoking mouth and you were all swallowed up in shadow. Appearances can be deceiving, huh? In reality you're just a real sweetheart who smells like rich, spicy gingerbread. Super chill."
JINGLE HORSE: "People get us mixed up all the time; you can tell us apart by the bow of fresh holly in my hair."
CORRUPTS: "I see, kinda like a Pac Man, Ms. Pac Man situation."
JINGLE HORSE: "Exactly. Alright, grab some of this sugar plum fairy dust and let's get going."
CORRUPTS: "I don't know if I oughta go puttin' none a that on my sled, Jingle. See I got this metal plate in my head and everytime Grin turns on the microwave, I piss my pants and forget who I am for a half hour or so.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Pipe the fuck DOWN and saddle UP!!"
CORRUPTS: "You got it, here we go."
On Jingle's command he hops on and prepares for lift off.
CORRUPTS: "Holy buckin' broncus Batman, I feel like a real gaucho."
JINGLE HORSE: "You ready?"
CORRUPTS: "What a bright time, it's the right time...to go ridin' in a one-horse sleigh!"
JINGLE HORSE: "Hold on tight."
CORRUPTS: "I'll drive this train wherever you want to, chica. You just gotta lay out the tracks! Let's get outta this one horse town."
They take off like a runaway star booted from its galactic birthplace--expelled to reionize the ancient universe. Soaring over houses that now look like tiny Christmas lights. Gliding through clouds of mist, the pearl and gray of it mix and reel and change the drab buildings with lighted lamps into points of mystery quivering with color. The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun. The vibrations rolling all through his guts and out again crunched like candy thunder.
CORRUPTS: LISTEN TO THE WIND!
They descend like a meteor entering the atmosphere but land as soft as a feather in the driveway of a random house in the suburbs. Hewhocorrupts dismounts.
CORRUPTS: "That must be what it feels like to be in zero gravity. All the fluids start roaming about inside your body, gathering in hollow and strange places.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Get over here, I need to show you something."
Hewhocorrupts walks up the driveway and takes a place beside Jingle Horse who's peering through the front window of the house.
JINGLE HORSE: "Take a look."
Corrupt's uses the sleeve of his jacket to clear away the condensation. Inside, a couple wrestling fans are gathered around the TV watching the latest pay-per-view event from a popular mainstream promotion.
GRAPS KID A: "What do you think of the show so far?"
GRAPS KID B: "In a word, boring. Agonizing to watch, really. As a lifelong wrestling fan this is just starting to feel too rudimentary, almost primitive. It's almost like things have gone backwards. Exchanges between wrestlers amount to nothing more engaging than, 'I'm the best!' and 'No way! I'm better than you, and I'm gonna prove it!'..just devoid of any originality or creativity. Hearing the same tired ass rebuttals ad nauseam.. For fuck's sake, it's almost 2017, why do I feel like I'm stuck in the Stone Age watching apes fling shit at each other. I'm beginning to ask myself why I still care. And if things don't take an evolutionary step forward sometime REAL soon, I doubt I'll even keep watching. What do you think? Aren't you getting sick of this bullshit? 'Cause it's becoming a real issue in my life!"
Chuckling...
GRAPS KID A: "I can see that! Let it out, I'm here for ya! Yeah, I definitely know what you mean, though..my patience has been wearing pretty thin lately as well. I'm having a hard time buying into all these superheroes with their sterile, generic, cookie-cutter, plastic personas. They all just seem to lack soul, y'know. It's actually kind of painful to watch. Good wrestling is an art and the art that I've come to respect is messy and opaque. It's the world of "The Wire", the paintings of Francis Bacon, the shrill dirtiness of The Clash. I like mess and this shit nowadays is too clean for my liking. I want self-doubt, confusion, loss, disgust, failure—then I want triumph. That’s a journey more to my liking and my reality."
GRAPS KID B: "For sure. Everything's definitely becoming a little too PG--toned down in favor of the diluted diet version. Watered-down, compromised and as things drag on--it’s like a bowl of gumbo that slowly turns into thin, reliable Campbell’s soup. Most promotions have CUT out the blood and done away with danger entirely which, don't get me wrong, isn't that big a deal, but knowing that ANYTHING can happen, at any time adds a whole lot of flavor to things. It really raises the stakes.. gets you invested. Has a certain color--blood red, I suppose--been drained from the sport to the point that it shines less bright? It sure feels that way.."
Looking on through the front window with concern...
JINGLE HORSE: "Their passion and love for wrestling seems to be bleeding out, flatlining."
CORRUPTS: "They're desatting, dude! They're desatting!"
Suddenly their robotic gaze broke free from the glow of the screen.
GRAPS KID A: "That's exactly it. So why would any of us watch something well after it has anything substantial to offer us, or worse, scrape together money to see the same things again and again only with a slightly new coat of paint? I don't get it."
One of their friends arrives late to the party.
GRAPS KID A: "Hey! Merry Christmas, bud. Glad you could make it. Grab a seat, we were just talking about how frustrated we are with the current state of wrestling."
GRAPS KID C: "That's 'cause you're watching the wrong stuff! Here, check this out."
He pulls out his phone and pulls up some footage of a recent Outliers match.
A: "What is it?"
B: "Yeah, what is it?"
C: "It's new.."
A: "Dear God, did he just slam her through like five tables?!"
C: "It's called Guerreros of Lucha.. fucking insane, right?"
B: "I didn't even know wrestling like this still existed! Who is this guy?"
C: "That's HEVVHOCORRVPTS. He's one half of The Outliers tag team. His partner, Sawtooth Grin, is one mean motor scooter, too. Talk about Angels with Filthy Souls. These guys are the syringe of adrenaline you need to revive your wrestling spirit! Force some of that Old Time Wrestling through your clogged arteries like Christmas Drano!"
A: "I'd given up hope that I would ever find joy again..I was lost but now I'm found, blind but now I see..it's a Christmas miracle!"
Jingle Horse turns to Corrupts.
JINGLE HORSE: "I have to say, Corrupts, you have a very unique ability to spread the L.O.V.E(Level Of ViolencE) wherever you go. But that was only one house. There are many houses on many streets filled with hopeless people who no longer believe in the TRUE spirit of wrestling. You have to wake them up; shake them from apathy. If this remains unaltered by the future, I fear all will be lost. But there is still time... Now, it's time for us to part, but before I go.."
Jingle leans in towards Hewhocorrupts and licks the pudding residue left on his face from earlier that night. When the Fudgsicle routine ends, Corrupts opens his eyes and Jingle is gone.
...Where we're going, we don't need eyes to see...
That all disappeared and was replaced by the stifling, deadening air of depression. Years have gone by, and there he is, still.
Hewhocorrupts finds himself in a monochrome world, a washed-out wasteland vacant of all life. A desert of song. A dislocated dystopia where fears and gut feelings begin to creep into observable reality. Thoughts play endlessly. He begins to feel trapped in this nightmarish terrorscape, wondering what might lie in wait for a lost soul to wander into their dark, concrete labyrinth. Deeper and deeper into a seemingly endless tomb, Corrupts searches for signs of life or anything that would alleviate the creeping dread that accompanied each step through the hollowed out streets.
There's a strange music emanating from the ground; beautiful melodies telling him terrible things.
The Gogolithic Mass rips through the darkness like wrapping paper. It's eyes like wormholes to where the wild things are. It's voice echoed around his bones.
The Alien. The Other. The Inconceivable. The Gogolithic Mass is a deathless specter from outer space who lurks in the darkness between worlds. A creature defined by its disregard for the natural laws of the universe as we understand them. It's a grotesque mockery of realities beyond comprehension whose disturbing otherness cannot be encompassed in any mortal tongue. Normal humans go mad just from witnessing its Alien Geometries. Reality itself warps around it. Any rules it follows are beyond our understanding, as are what motives it might have for any of its actions. I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought and if I go any further I risk complete and utter annihilation. I have looked upon all that the universe has to hold of horror and even the skies of spring and the flowers of summer will forever be poison to me. I am fighting for my sanity as well as my survival.
THE GOGOLITHIC MASS: "I am the Ghost of Guerreros Future. I rule the deep void. He who trespasses upon my domain shall be cast into the field of slow maw. His family shall suffer disease and be denied health coverage. His firstborn shall become an artist and endure financial incapacity and a crippling sense of deficiency until that distant dawn of my dark reign's end."
CORRUPTS: "But I brought you something sweet to munch on.. NOT ME, the brownie.."
HWC hands the offering to the creature while trying not to shit himself.
After devouring the brownie and some careful consideration...
GM: "The Trespasser shall on this day be freed. Having far outlived the familiarities of his old world, he shall greet with mounting despair, a grey and hopeless universe in which all things have abandoned presumption of his human sensibilities. The Trespasser then shall reflect on his sins against me. The Trespasser shall weep, and the Trespasser shall perish. His memory shall be lost in the chaotic manifold and forgotten for all time. It was said..so shall it be done. Amen."
CORRUPTS: "Amen. SO..what's there to do around here?"
GM: "Going down.."
CORRUPTS: "Alright, chief. Whatever you say."
Thousands of years of heaven above our heads and hell beneath our feet mean that "going down" can never be a positive gesture, and descents are often in fear or madness, rather than safety or comfort. When Dante begins his long descent into Hell in Inferno, he simply states, "I entered on the deep and savage way." Through mist and shadow, a small, suffocated light reveals the iron gate--here it opens and our dear brother is led down into a cemetery littered with tombstones.
GM: "We spin a world in a dizzying fall, to see the things that will happen to us all."
Corrupts is horrified to realize the names on the headstones are his friends--long dead and gone, food for worms to engorge.
All his veins rushing with the sound of his beating heart...
CORRUPTS: "What is this Days of Future Past! Why the fuck are you showing me this!"
With cold indifference...
GM: "Changing the world is a tall order. A better future requires sacrifice. These Guerreros did not go gentle.. they raged against the dying of the light.. they gave everything to rescue the Spirit of Wrestling, but it was too late. At every crossroads on the path that leads to the future, tradition has placed ten thousand men to guard the past."
CORRUPTS: "This isn't possible, you have to bring them back!"
GM: "I cannot. The past is already written, the ink is dry. The stories they had written slipped away, their great deeds forgotten."
CORRUPTS: "Can't bring things back to life! Tell that to Jesus or his buddy Frankenstein!"
GM: "They were willing to give their entire lives to a moment--blood, sweat, and soul--to stir the audience's Spirit. They were beings who tasted life's nectar the moment they poured their hearts out onto the mat to fill someone else's with joy. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they knew that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes. They will ride eternal, shiny and chrome."
Corrupts' realizes there isn't much difference between loving someone and being afraid for them. Loving a person means you need them to stay: alive, around. But the shadow that love can't help cast is fear: fear that they won't stay alive or around--fear they'll be reckless, or doomed, or just walk away and not consider you ever again. With love, you're scared it will disappear. With fear, you're scared it never will. The trick, he understood now but could never quite manage to put into practice, was getting used to both of them at the same time. It was living in between...the trick was not minding that it hurts.
The Gogolithic Mass begins chanting and the nightmare intensifies...
GM: "Here we sow him in corruption, to be raised in corruption: an avenging ghost at many a sick-bedside, a testimony to future ages of how villainy and virtue once ruled this cursed dimension together. Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but if you start now you have a slim chance at a new ending.
GM: "This is a story of breaking out. It is as if you have typed IDDQD on life..so you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again. They are rage, brutal, without mercy. But you..you will be worse. Rip and tear, until it is done. Cut through them like piss through snow. You will be left as a reminder of what happens when hope is lost, when belief is forgotten and the true wrestling spirit dies! HEWHOCORRAMPUS! A message of hope for those who choose to hear it, and a warning for those who do not.."
GM: "You are the one. You can feed their dirty minds. You know what they want. Icon of symmetry, swallowing sides.. fall down in front of me just follow my eyes. But I've got to see you moving, waste no time. Teach me, make me holy--'til I can sell you lies. They can't get enough. Make a true believer of anyone..anyone...anyone...."
A triangular wormhole half-covered by purple darkness begins closing in on him. The metaphysical equivalent of a Google search, a portal through which you could step into a much wider world--a parallel realm of paranormal forces which collides with the real world. A deluge of voices come spilling in from the other side. After a sudden rush of static, the voices become clearer, but they sound like an AI in Westworld attempting to move beyond its intended parameters.
CORRUPTS: "When I wake up.. I'm gettin' a CAT scan!"
Hewhocorrupts thrashes to life as he wakes up back in his apartment. Sucking in air like his heart stopped...
CORRUPTS: "HOOBASTANK!"
He snaps his head down to look at his watch, his vision slips in and out of focus.
CORRUPTS: "There's still time...it's still Christmas morning... Let the SLAY ride begin!"
Donning an old, gnarly pair of reindeer antlers(which somehow miraculously managed to hold it together for another Christmas), Hewhocorrupts stands in the corner of his modest apartment putting the finishing touches on a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. The apartment--normally more utility than comfort--has been transformed into an environment that invites wonder, and every nook feels edged with a little extra Christmas magic, a certain sparkle or a trick of the moonlight. For HWC, that magic might also be baked into some brownies sent special delivery from Miss Florence. Baked goods...of the HIGHEST quality.
Turning toward the camera sporting a roguish smile.
"Season's greetings! Welcome to my humble abode! When I'm not making the greater Chicagoland area my bedroom..this is where I tend to put my head down. Just give me a sec.. be right with you.."
Turning back toward the tree, softly whistling "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas."
"It's not complete without all the trimmings, y'know!"
HWC quickly looks around the room and picks up a burlap bag off the recliner and reaches inside.
"Ah hah! Here we go..get ready..for snow-fetti!"
Corrupts showers the anemic, miniature tree with a healthy handful of thumb tacks...ninety-nine percent of which just end up rattling all over the floor. HWC takes a bow.
"The lights are turned way down low..let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! You can never have enough splintery glitter and you can never be too careful in my neighborhood! Also got some "razor floss" from an elf I know. Check it out."
Pointing toward the tinsel shaped like loops of razor wire hanging across the window.
"Tinsel--not just for decoration! I have a feeling that my professional and personal passions have finally become one. Or maybe I've just seen "Home Alone" a few two hundred times, I dunno. I also have a feeling Kevin McCallister grows up to be The Collector, but that's a story for another time.. Aww jeez, where are my manners? Can I offer you a tasty libation? How 'bout an eggnogasaki bomb? Definitely a seasonal favorite..maybe later? Sure. What about a homemade Muncha Libre sugar cookie?..iced 'em myself.. you're good? Oh, I bet you're waiting to get your mouth around my beautiful balls.. bigger than you expected I'm sure.. big and bulbous.. uh-huh, nothing like some delicious Schweddy Balls. These pair really well with a couple salty nuts."
Hewhocorrupts hops over the arm of the recliner, settling into his cozy chair.
"Alright! The party's on.. the spirit's up.."
"Don't you love the holidays?! As the days pass I can barely contain the excitement. At this point in the month the Christmas engine inside me gets NOS dumped into it and I turn into Vin Diesel living life a quarter mile at a time. Just firing on all cylinders breathing fire and death.. or is it (Disaster)peace and good will toward men. Yeah, that's the one.. A chance to lay around, stuff your face, smoke until you can’t remember who or where the heck you are, make snow angels in the buff and most importantly--spend time with friends and fam."
"You should have seen last Christmas. Some friends from out west came to stay with me who had never experienced a true, Midwest white Christmas. The only problem was Mother Nature didn't want to cooperate.. and cocaine ain't cheap. SO, as a surprise, we managed to use a combination of snow machines, fire extinguishers, paper shredders, styrofoam put through a wood chipper and an ungodly amount of salt to turn this joint into an indoor igloo. I shit you not. We even rented a shaved ice machine for a snowball fight. What a jolly good time.. one for the books I'd say ..Speaking of books..."
Extending the footrest, HWC reaches down the side of the recliner and pulls up a story book.
"Hows 'bout we kick back..relax and enjoy a little rendition of "'Twas the Fight Before Christmas!"
With a soft, svelte voice Hewhocorrupts begins reading the "classic" Christmas tale.
"Twas the Fight Before Christmas and all through "The Lab"
Were fans on their feet chanting "Holy shit, this is rad!"
Their eyes all aglow and with very good reason,
Team Tecnicos were getting merked in the brawl of the season.
Break out the cookie cutters, throw down broken glass,
And get ready to open a family size can of whoop ass.
From pillar to post, alone and in pairs
The "good guys" were like Slinkies, tumbling down stairs.
Dancing in quicksand and rapidly sinking,
They begin wondering, 'What the hell were we thinking!'
Exhausted, they beg, they plead and they ask,
'Alright, that's enough...can we just make this fast?'
'We've only just started to spread the L.O.V.E!'
As a thunderous chair shot crashes down from above.
'Live in the moment, 'cause you know it won't last;
Now let's bust open your present--Aww, it's a bright crimson mask!'
And just when the heroes feel the noose getting tighter,
El Mattador grabs the fuel, Corrupts flicks open his lighter.
'Run, run Rudos, Santa's gotta make it to town!
Dragon put us all on the Naughty List,
So let's burn this mother down!'
The Lucha-ville Sluggers are all wrapped in barb wire
And the tables burn brightly, all lit up with fire!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
All of Team Tecnicos start to shiver with dread.
'Just one more thing for you all to remember
Before we say goodbye to the month of December--
We reject all labels, my jolly old elves,
We're confined only by walls that we build ourselves.'
And with that being said, He calls out to his friends,
'Now, Mattador! Now, War Machine! Now, Prodigy! This ends!'
Slammed through the table after a crushing Thumbsucker--
Yelling, 'Merry Christmas to all, Yippee-Ki-Yay, Motherfucker!'
"May the spirit spread as fast as the fire, The End! Oh how precious..it looks like some of you didn't get your afternoon naps.. goodnight, my darlings.. sleep in heavenly peace.. 'For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.'"
HWC spontaneously bursts into song to wake up all the "Little Nickys" who fell asleep without hearing the moral of the story.
"'It's that time, Christmas time is here..and everybody knows, there's not a better time of year!' I love Christmas.. The holidays just have a way of renewing us and reminding us of what we DO have. They give us a chance to take a step back and refocus on what's important.. to stop and embrace all the fleeting moments of beauty and connection and pain that mold us and tear us apart all at the same time.. a chance to remember that where there is love, there is life.. so spread the L.O.V.E and live long and prosper.. don't wait, don't let it slip away.. enjoy it right now 'cause you never know when it's gonna end.
"Sure, I may not live a life of luxury, I may not have a coat or toenails right now, but I do have something nobody can ever take away from me: outstanding warrants."
He glances down at his watch.
"Would you look at the time! Well kids, it's been real..now go forth and eat, drink, sing and be merry! Light up the TREES and send this year off on a real HIGH note! Throw it all down and get LIFTED! I know I will..Santa came bearing SPLIFFS! The mind is a terrible thing to waste.. signing off.."
And on that note, Hewhocorrupts fires up the "frankincense" and dissolves into a plume of thick smoke.
After "drifting off to sleep," Hewhocorrupts gradually awakens to the unsettling sound of something--or someone--wreaking havoc in the kitchen. He wipes the cobwebs from his eyes and springs from his chair to investigate the phantom signal. Walking quietly and carefully (as not to alert the unwelcome guest), Corrupts carefully tiptoes toward the clatter. He discovers what appears to be a man torso-deep in the fridge, digging frantically for something to eat. While the intruder is preoccupied throwing food all over the floor like E.T., Corrupts takes the chance to sneak up behind him like Snake Plissken.
..HWC gets the jump on him..
"Hellooo, assclown!"
Grabbing a clump of hair, he pulls his head out of the refrigerator and sinks in a deep choke before the stranger knows what hit him. After a brief struggle, HWC manages to incapacitate him.
"Well this is awkward. Lucky for me this isn't my first rodeo..very unlucky for you, however. Your luck hasn't run out yet, though.. I'm wearing pajamas! Normally I sleep naked.. BUCK naked! Ha! So who are you, and what the FUCK are you doing in my place?! You can't possibly be St. Nick..I mean he comes bearing gifts.. and you?.. you burgled me, dude! That was a rude thing. That makes you a Wet Bandit--'This is my house, I have to defend it.' ..Now SHUT UP!.. and tell me everything you know!"
Without even giving him a chance to answer, Corrupts constricts the choke to the point where speech is no longer possible--a strange choice of tactics if you're looking to get answers... The unknown man clutches his arms attempting to break the hold. Corrupts thinks he's playing with a new toy...
"SHUT UP!.. and tell me everything you know! ..'I'll tell you what I'm gonna give you, Snakes. I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellah, no-good keister off my property.. before I pump your guts full of lead!'"
Just as those words roll off his tongue, the man slips out of the choke like Hardeen from a straight jacket and puts Hewhocorrupts on his back with a headlock takeover. The tables have turned and HWC finds himself crushed under the weight of an old man who bears a striking resemblance to Martin Landau. The two end up face to face on the kitchen floor.
"Well this is awkward."
INTRUDER: "Lesson one: never let go until you hear bones break, cartilage snap or they crap in their pants!"
CORRUPTS: "Yeah that sounds like a lot of fun, but you wanna tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing here first?!"
INTRUDER: "Screw you, that's my name. Now say it! Or prepare to die waste case!"
HWC strains to catch his breath.
CORRUPTS: "Say what?! What do you want?! You already ate all my food! Jeez, you're spry..you got that crazy old man strength, huh..you must draw energy from jousting windmills. Maybe I can just flex-a-bust outta here, whatya think?"
HWC tries to squirm free.
CORRUPTS: "Nope."
INTRUDER: "Alas, it's no use my dim-witted friend, for it is you who is tilting at windmills. Now say it!"
CORRUPTS: "Merry Christmas?"
The strange and violent fellow picks up a half-eaten pudding cup lying next to him and empties it into Corrupts' mouth; similar to waterboarding but a much tastier form of torture.With a mouthful of chocolate pudding HWC fires back..
CORRUPTS: "And a happy new year?"
INTRUDER: "Boy, you're about as sharp as a bag a socks. Try again."
Corrupts takes the biggest breath he can and spits pudding all over the stranger's face.
CORRUPTS: 'Keep the change ya filthy animal!'
INTRUDER: "Tough guy, huh? Yeah..you're about as tough as a papercut; soft as baby poop on a warm summer day. Stand down, you son of a bitch!"
CORRUPTS: "Elf you!"
The stranger delivers a piercing shot to the body with his knee.
CRRACKK!!!
CORRUPTS: "That's a rib! That's a full rack a ribs right there.. son of a nutcracker.. aren't you full yet?! When was the last time you ate?!"
INTRUDER: "Can you say it now? Last chance saloon.."
The Southsider chokes down the last of his dessert.
CORRUPTS: "I'm your bitch and you're my daddy."
INTRUDER: "That's the one! I would've also accepted, 'I tap.' But I've been told that's not really a phrase in your vocabulary."
The mystery man hops up and extends his hand to Hewhocorrupts.
INTRUDER: "SAL BANDINI! Wanna wrestle?!"
Sal grabs HWC's hand and pulls him up to the sound of candy canes crunching underfoot.
SAL: "You made the right decision, kid..you don't know how close you were to getting a candy cane up your chimney."
CORRUPTS: "Yikes! That's uh, really taking the season of giving to an uncomfortable, new LOW. I mean, I'm grateful you didn't mention anything about licking it to a point first, but..is that what's goin' on here? Did you escape from Cook County just to shank me in the prison wallet? Please God say no.. and please GOD don't interpret anything I just said as a euphemism or innuendo."
His remarks draw out a roar of laughter from the old man.
SAL: "Rest easy friend, you have nothing to fear. Y'know, I like your style, kid..but you still have much to learn. Lesson two: possum ain't dead 'til it's scraped off the road."
CORRUPTS: "Did you have to squash the possum's nuts first? Speaking of dead, I thought you were gonna piece me up back there.. drive me out to the middle of nowhere, leave me for dead. Do you meet people this way often?"
SAL: "I could ask you the same thing, you don't seem concerned at all with having a complete stranger standing in your kitchen. This doesn't bother you?"
CORRUPTS: "Ain't shook. Besides, comes with the territory. In this neighborhood, everyone's fighting for their food. Judging by the culinary carnage in here, we just had a harmless food fight.. so in the spirit of the season.. no harm, no foul. Like I always say, keep calm and clean it with fire."
Brushing scraps of food off his "Shit happens when you party naked" t-shirt and wiping the pudding from his face...
CORRUPTS: "SO, if you're not on death row and here to eat me like a steak for your last meal..then what's up, guy? Was the homeless shelter full, or is there another reason you decided to break in my apartment and "Wreck The Halls" dressed like Cousin Eddie?"
SAL: "Amusing..not too bright though. I'll give it to ya, ya got guts, kid..but in the brains department, you're like a man who takes a high dive in a low well."
Sal clears his throat. His voice becomes silky smooth; singularly low, as if instead of being so close, it were at a distance.
SAL: "I am The Ghost of Guerreros Past!"
Without batting an eye...
CORRUPTS: "Well what heck do you want with me? I'm no Scrooge McDuck."
Marveling at the refreshingly odd and beautiful Christmas decorations, Bandini blurts out..
SAL: "Oh, it's obvious there's no shortage of Christmas spirit in here..good thing too, we can't have Krampus crashin' the Christmas party and poopin' in the punch bowl--hold on a sec. Are you ok? Reason I ask is..usually when I say I'm The Ghost of Guerreros Past.. most wrestlers look at me like I'm full blown nutsoid. They're like, 'Uh, you're clearly disturbed and really scaring me with the stuff that's happening right now. Can we take a direct flight back to reality, or do we have to change planes in Denver?' But I'm not really gettin' that vibe from you. You seem relatively unfazed."
CORRUPTS: "What's the problem, you're like The Ghost of Christmas Past. Gotcha. Can we get on with the maneuvers now?"
SAL: "Uh, sure..that was easy.."
CORRUPTS: "No qualms here, out and about with your crazy.. I find it very liberating."
SAL: "OK! OK! Alright! That's great, I can work with that. By the way, I sincerely apologize about the mess. It was not my intent in the slightest. I'm not sure what came over me.. I'm trying one of those amazing brownies one minute..the next, the whole plate's gone and I'm raiding your fridge like that damn sasquatch in "Harry and the Hendersons".
CORRUPTS: "You ate all the brownies?! Jiminy Christmas! Some of those were for Santa ya dingus!"
SAL: "That's what I'm sayin', kid. I thought to myself, 'I just ate a whole plate of brownies, why do I feel even hungrier than before?'"
SAL: "Hate to break more bad news but you're outta leche too, kid. He'll have to settle for bourbon instead! NO! That won't work, Santa doesn't drink.. he's gotta drive a sleigh."
CORRUPTS: "You're so right.. that would be very irresponsible..."
Sal shuffles around the kitchen, clutching at walls, trying not to trip over himself. Nearly falling.
SAL: "WHOA, there's all types a gravity in here.."
CORRUPTS: "I should be the one asking if you're ok! Those were laced.. I mean baked with enough HOLIDAY CHEER to power Santa's sleigh! Good shit, huh?"
SAL: "Y'know..back in my day Christmas meant something! Nowadays it's just, 'Hey could you email me dinner!', 'Could you fax me a hug!', 'Text me, text me, text me.' Why don't you write a letter you dummy!"
Laughing...
CORRUPTS: "To who?"
SAL: "You, me, Santa, I don't give a damn.. that's another thing! Kids today don't even leave Santa milk and cookies anymore! Y'know! It's almond milk and instagraham crackers.."
Shouting...
SAL: "FELIZ NAVI-DON'T! HA! Put that on your iPad and smoke it!"
Corrupts cracks up.
CORRUPTS: "Easy there Bandini, maybe take another lap around the kitchen.. walk it off, buddy."
Snickering under his breath, he hands Sal a glass of water.
SAL: "These kids today.. all they care about.. 'Is this tinsel grass fed?', 'Can I have a BLAT salad with rainbow Swiss chard and a seaweed lozenge, please.'"
CORRUPTS: "Dr. Brule says meatloaf's good for your bones..."
SAL: "PS4!, XBOX One!, PS4!, XBOX One!, humanity ZERO!"
Corrupts loses it.
SAL: "Where's the justice, kid? A reindeer runs over Grandma, he gets his own song.. I run over one nativity scene and I have to change churches.."
Sal, slurring his words and having a hard time controlling his emotions, abruptly starts whimpering but snaps out of it almost as quickly as the tears came. Suddenly, he dumps the whole glass of water out on the floor so he can use it as a microphone to bust out a few bars from Seal's classic song "Crazy".
SAL: "'No we're never gonna survive! UNLESS.. we get a little.. CRAY-ZAY!' Alright, alright. So, I'm not a Miracle on 34th Street, ok..so I don't have a corncob pipe and button nose ok.. so we'll never be Royals, ok.. THAT'S NOT ME!"
CORRUPTS: "Hey, it's ok, bud. Just let it out. Relax. Breathe."
SAL: "You know what I like though? That sexy, green M&M lady, uh huh.. c'mon you've thought about it..."
CORRUPTS: "Alright, let's just go into the living room, I think you need to sit the next few periods out, champ.. those brownies are kickin' your ass.. enough "figgy pudding" for you tonight. Here, gimme your arm I'll help you to the recliner."
SAL: "Now bring me some figgy pudding, now bring me some figgy pudding.. I have to eat!, so I can take my back pill.."
CORRUPTS: "That's enough binge eating for tonight, pal."
SAL: "Back in my day, binging was buying a four dollar whore and waking up with your balls on backwards.."
After a couple hours and a number of interesting conversations later, Sal Bandini has leveled out and the two are much better acquainted after comparing scars like Quint and Hooper in "Jaws".
SAL: "..and that's what really happened in Vietnam."
CORRUPTS: "I don't understand.."
SAL: "Neither do I."
CORRUPTS: "Next time, let's try telling a Christmas story where no one gets caught in a fire fight or covered in napalm until their skin peels away like the top of a grilled cheese. Maybe something a little more traditional.. something that doesn't shatter the magic of Christmas."
SAL: "Deal. And trust me, after tonight, you can take all your Tiny Tims and your Grinches and your Miracles on Whatever Street and stuff them in your stocking. After tonight, you'll have your own Christmas story to tell... Well, Hewhocorrupts, I think the brownies are finally wearing off. I should be ok to fly. But there's something important I need to show you before the night's over. Hold on to your "Jingle Bells" kid, 'cause it only gets weirder from here..."
Just then, Sal reaches out to Hewhocorrupts, grips his hand and tosses him through the window!
...Through the looking glass.. where time often seems suspended, facts and fables merge and diverge, and memory melts either into a golden longing or the blessed fog of denial...
Hewhocorrupts suddenly crash lands face first in the freezing snow, brain half frostbitten, gasping cold, dry air that makes his throat feel like a dentist left that saliva sucker thing in while on a phone call. Clambering to his feet and shaking off the snow, Corrupts surveys his surroundings only to realize he's standing in the backyard of the house where he grew up. At that very moment, it all starts to register and everything clicks like tumblers in a lock.
The landscape is embedded with memories of the former lives that were lived there; ghosts that both define and haunt it's identity.
CORRUPTS: "Curiouser and curiouser.."
SAL: "Surprised?"
CORRUPTS: "Bandini, I wouldn't be more surprised if I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet. So this is my past, huh?"
SAL: 'You may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with you.'
The old man lifts his nose up in the air, inhaling deeply.
SAL: "Oh, the silent majesty of a winter's morn..the clean, cool chill of the holiday air. Do you remember this day?"
CORRUPTS: "Hey, I may vape the day away, but I'm still as sharp as the edge on Jack Torrance's axe--I think I can remember my own past. Let's see..come to think of it, this looks eerily similar to a day on winter break. There was this insane blizzard the night before that left behind a fresh mattress of waist-high snow. Thanks for letting me grab a coat by the way..."
SAL: "Frolic and play, the Eskimo way.."
CORRUPTS: "And I really enjoyed being thrown out my own window, too. I expected time travel to come with its fair share of turbulence, but why not try a can of Chernobly and a nice hot tub next time.."
SAL: "Like a birth in reverse..and hey, at least I opened the window first! Let me tell ya, some aren't so fortunate!"
CORRUPTS: "Anyways..it was one of those days you live for as a kid. Schools close, roads disappear, grown men weep. Anything can happen on a day like that..this? I'll get it.."
Adjusting to the oddities of time travel...
CORRUPTS: "But we just did what we always did--wrestle! My buddy, Drew, came over, we cleared off the trampoline and had a match in the snow 'til our toes nearly froze off! Rain, sleet or snow..win, lose and broken bones. I guess some things never change. Definitely another one for the books. And for the record--it was no ordinary backyard wrestling match..it was a buried alive...SNOWCOPHAGUS MATCH!"
HWC cups his hands over his mouth to simulate the roar of the crowd.
Sal reaches down to run his hand through the fresh powder.
SAL: "This is where it all began, kid. A day that left an indelible imprint on your life and laid the foundation for what was to come. Just as the cold acts as a catalyst to change water into this snow here; this moment helped solidify your love of wrestling and transform you into who you are. A cosmic confluence of events; a perfect storm. One that yielded some pretty brilliant results. Take a look for yourself.."
SAL: "Exhibit A: the back handspring moonsault off the tram-bamp-oline."
Suddenly, his twelve year old self magically materializes, rushing into view along with all the memories. Racing from one end of the trampoline to the other, Mini-Corrupts plants his hands and hurls himself into the wild white yonder. Hewhocorrupts may have been standing in a heap of snow, but he was all warm and fuzzy inside, basking in the halcyon glow of nostalgia. A fervent flood of emotion crystallizing in every nerve ending as he watched HIMSELF crash into his friend and sink into the shimmering snow. The salad days; happy golden days of yore. The temperature had not changed but it somehow felt warmer.
CORRUPTS: "Look at these little miscreants."
SAL: "Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow..beating the shit out of each other, knee deep in snow.. That's the type of improvisation and adaptability that's always served you well. Then and now.. Now turn your attention to Exhibit B: The crotch chop elbow drop off the top of the shed!"
Corrupts shifts his focus to "The Barn": a big wooden shed painted green and white in the corner of the yard that doubled as a clubhouse. He tilts his head up to see HIMSELF dive off the top of The Barn and plummet down onto his old friend Drew with a massive elbow. They plunge deep into the snow and disappear like in one of those commercials where they drop a bowling ball onto a feather pillow. Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh.
Corrupts jumps up and down with impish glee.
CORRUPTS: "WITNESS! 'In the suburbs I.. I learned to fly.. and they told me we'd never survive..'"
SAL: "In the space between life and death, that's where you're the most alive; the most comfortable. This moment exemplifies your ferocious and fearless, no limits attitude. Not always the smartest approach, but it sure is fun to watch, I'll give you that! 'It's not about winning, it never was. Just show them how to play. Show them how to have fun. Teach them to fly!'"
CORRUPTS: "Good one, Bandini! Love me some Mighty Ducks. Wait! That gives me an idea. You wanna do the shit purse prank? Just for old times sake?"
Casting a mischievous smirk...
SAL: "Maybe next year, kid..right now, direct your gaze towards the other corner of this winter wonderland for Exhibit C: BURIED ALIVE!"
With (Death)stars in his eyes...
CORRUPTS: "This is my favorite part! At this point I can't feel my body at all and my eyes are practically frozen shut like Audrey's in "Christmas Vacation"
There's a large pit dug out of the snow in the opposite corner of the yard where the garden used to grow. The last resting place of the poor soul who gets left out in the cold; a grave for the NEARLY departed. Mini-Corrupts and Drew battle along the fence lined with tiny shrub oaks, momentum constantly shifting with every attack and reversal. As they reach the edge of the pit, Mini-Corrupts gets back body dropped into the SNOWCOPHAGUS! Drew wastes no time tossing shovel fulls of icy, bone-chilling slush on top of him until he's completely covered.
Looking at his watch like Harry and Marv casing houses, waiting for the interior lights to automatically switch on...
CORRUPTS: "Wait a minute, wait a minute...NOW!"
Right on cue, a frozen hand sprouts from the grave.
He quickly scrambles out, grabs the grave digger's (snow)shovel and brings it down across Drew's back. With his friend doubled over, Mini-Corrupts takes the chance to piledrive him right into the pit! There was an eager, hopeful, restless motion in his eye that showed the passion that had taken root here. HWC's heart and soul were also rooted in this place, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest sensation. It was not until now, when the bright face of his younger self turned from them that he realized...
CORRUPTS: "Sometimes you never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory."
Mini-Corrupts delivers the last rites as he fills in the grave; a true friend. When he's done, he spikes the shovel in the snow--the cherry on top, the nail in the coffin signifying the end of their wicked campaign.
SAL: "Oh, my ecstatic pummeler of faces and splitter of skulls, nothing brings you BACK to life like the bringing of death! This scene reflects your killer instinct and reveals your will to survive against all odds. It's bizarre how much joy you get from doling out and absorbing such a sickening amount of punishment.. I mean, you must be touched by the fist of God, son!"
CORRUPTS: "Goonies never say die and big girls don't cry."
SAL: "Take notice Guerreros of Lucha! The hand that reaches from the grave to grip your throat is the strong hand you want on the wheel. And Tecnicos--take heed. Better tread lightly 'cause you're walkin' on some mighty thin ice. If it's a villain you want this year, consider your Christmas wish fulfilled--Hewhocorrupts' self-destructive spirit fills up the monster mask and then some. But be careful what you wish for. My new friend here has weathered the storm, now he's ready to be one!"
Corrupts croons a little tune...
CORRUPTS: "Hurtin' so long..that our pleasure is our pain. Madly in love, madly insane."
SAL: "Oh Mylanta, you're already running late, we don't have much time."
CORRUPTS: "Are you all done melting my heart, ol' buddy, ol' Sal?"
SAL: "Just be sure to let this moment stay frozen in your mind, Corrupts, so you can always remember where you came from. Never forget who you are. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you. I know Guerreros aren't supposed to show their hearts until the axe reveals it, but hey, I guess I've taken a real shine to you."
CORRUPTS: "Thanks, man. I'm gonna miss you too, Sal. Take care of yourself out there."
SAL: "Don't worry about me! Clean the bong resin out of your ears and listen to me--and this is my final lesson: always attack a man's strengths."
CORRUPTS: "Uh, don't you mean weaknesses? You sure you're not still feelin' those brownies, bud?"
SAL: "No, I mean strengths! No one ever expects you to attack the strongest part of the fort. Up the middle, that's where the action is and it's the same in life. You gotta go into the blue paint if you wanna score goals. Look, I know you got demon's but don't run away, attack 'em head on.. at full speed, 'cause that my friend, is living. And judging by what I've seen here, you'll do just fine, kid. Stay strong in the ways of the pass-a-fist and may you be happy in the life you've chosen, I know you're enemies will not..."
They are suddenly separated by a blistering snowblind that rips between them and they soon fade from sight.
...My God, it's full of stars...
Was it a nervous breakdown? A lucid dream? Rosetta Stoned? Did he take the red pill and go down the rabbit hole?
Back in his apartment, Hewhocorrupts wakes up and before he's even conscious of how exhausted he is, he hears something moving around on the rooftop. Based on the heavy crunch, it sounds like something BIG. He instantly remembers Sal saying something about him being late...but late for what exactly? He snags a few gulps of water out of the tap before heading up to see what else the night has in store.
There's a sign on the roof-access door that says its been closed for repairs and it's dated almost two years ago. Per ushe, he pries it open. The cold greets him with a scathing kiss; he zips up his jacket and throws on a cap.
CORRUPTS: "OK, so that mystery's solved."
Just when he thought the evening couldn't get any weirder...
CORRUPTS: "Did someone lose a giant, menacing, armor-clad warrior horse?"
This horse was so massive and intimidating it might as well have been a dinosaur. In the bitter cold, its breath shoots out like the hot exhaust of a jet airplane. Its luxurious coat is so black it virtually vanishes against the backdrop of the night sky; blacker than black, "Attack the Block" style. Trust.
VISITOR 2: "Come closer! Come closer, and know me better, man. I am The Ghost of Guerreros Present."
HWC treks cautiously through the dense snow.
CORRUPTS: "A talking, anthropomorphic horse. Why not."
VISITOR 2: "Giddy-up, Corrupts! Pick up your feet! You and that old bitch hog, Sal Bandini already took your sweet ass time and now we're behind schedule."
CORRUPTS: "Kept you waiting, huh? Sorry about that..punctuality was never my strong suit, plus, Old Sally girl got pretty TWISTED and needed some extra time to unwind.."
VISITOR 2: "Well, we better get moving. You don't wanna keep him waiting."
CORRUPTS: "Keep who waiting?"
VISITOR 2: "You'll see."
HWC is dwarfed by the majestic creature looming over him.
VISITOR 2: I'm Jingle Horse, by the way."
The Lady's mane was of deep gold and silver, long and bright; but no sign of age was upon her, unless it were in the depths of her eyes. They were keen as lances in the starlight, and yet profound; the wells of deep memory.
CORRUPTS: "Pleasure to meet you, ma lady. Oh, I get it now..pick up your feet? Giddy-up Jingle horse?! No wonder you're in a hurry, you wanna get back to Jingling around the clock! I don't blame you when it's such a bright time, such a right time..to rock the night away.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Are you gonna do this all night?"
CORRUPTS: "I guess that's the way the Jingle Bell Rock crumbles."
Noticing the bells hanging from her incredibly ornate Christmas sweater...
CORRUPTS: "Ohhh, now I get why you're named Jingle Horse, it's this ravishing ensemble you have on here. Where'd you get this festive little number?"
JINGLE HORSE: "How kind of you to ask. Believe it or not, I knitted it myself."
CORRUPTS: "Dang! Well, you're obviously no one trick pony."
JINGLE HORSE: "Knock it off!"
Throwing his hands up...
CORRUPTS: "Hey, I'll play the game, angel face. You just gotta tell me the rules."
JINGLE HORSE: "What took you guys so long anyway?"
CORRUPTS: "We shared a bowl of sugar, did some shots of brown liquor, played with my shot guns, field-dressed a cat, looked for women.. I'm kidding! C'mon what do you think we did? We rejoiced in the spirit of Christmas and pro wrestling! We had a great time."
JINGLE HORSE: "I suppose it's easy to get held up with Sal blowing all that smoke up your ass."
CORRUPTS: "I kinda was starting to feel trapped in all that happiness.. but I have to admit it kinda freaked me out when I first saw you. You looked a heckuva lot like Death Dealer's battle horse aside from the sweater. Your deep breaths looked like a rifle's smoking mouth and you were all swallowed up in shadow. Appearances can be deceiving, huh? In reality you're just a real sweetheart who smells like rich, spicy gingerbread. Super chill."
JINGLE HORSE: "People get us mixed up all the time; you can tell us apart by the bow of fresh holly in my hair."
CORRUPTS: "I see, kinda like a Pac Man, Ms. Pac Man situation."
JINGLE HORSE: "Exactly. Alright, grab some of this sugar plum fairy dust and let's get going."
CORRUPTS: "I don't know if I oughta go puttin' none a that on my sled, Jingle. See I got this metal plate in my head and everytime Grin turns on the microwave, I piss my pants and forget who I am for a half hour or so.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Pipe the fuck DOWN and saddle UP!!"
CORRUPTS: "You got it, here we go."
On Jingle's command he hops on and prepares for lift off.
CORRUPTS: "Holy buckin' broncus Batman, I feel like a real gaucho."
JINGLE HORSE: "You ready?"
CORRUPTS: "What a bright time, it's the right time...to go ridin' in a one-horse sleigh!"
JINGLE HORSE: "Hold on tight."
CORRUPTS: "I'll drive this train wherever you want to, chica. You just gotta lay out the tracks! Let's get outta this one horse town."
They take off like a runaway star booted from its galactic birthplace--expelled to reionize the ancient universe. Soaring over houses that now look like tiny Christmas lights. Gliding through clouds of mist, the pearl and gray of it mix and reel and change the drab buildings with lighted lamps into points of mystery quivering with color. The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun. The vibrations rolling all through his guts and out again crunched like candy thunder.
CORRUPTS: LISTEN TO THE WIND!
They descend like a meteor entering the atmosphere but land as soft as a feather in the driveway of a random house in the suburbs. Hewhocorrupts dismounts.
CORRUPTS: "That must be what it feels like to be in zero gravity. All the fluids start roaming about inside your body, gathering in hollow and strange places.."
JINGLE HORSE: "Get over here, I need to show you something."
Hewhocorrupts walks up the driveway and takes a place beside Jingle Horse who's peering through the front window of the house.
JINGLE HORSE: "Take a look."
Corrupt's uses the sleeve of his jacket to clear away the condensation. Inside, a couple wrestling fans are gathered around the TV watching the latest pay-per-view event from a popular mainstream promotion.
GRAPS KID A: "What do you think of the show so far?"
GRAPS KID B: "In a word, boring. Agonizing to watch, really. As a lifelong wrestling fan this is just starting to feel too rudimentary, almost primitive. It's almost like things have gone backwards. Exchanges between wrestlers amount to nothing more engaging than, 'I'm the best!' and 'No way! I'm better than you, and I'm gonna prove it!'..just devoid of any originality or creativity. Hearing the same tired ass rebuttals ad nauseam.. For fuck's sake, it's almost 2017, why do I feel like I'm stuck in the Stone Age watching apes fling shit at each other. I'm beginning to ask myself why I still care. And if things don't take an evolutionary step forward sometime REAL soon, I doubt I'll even keep watching. What do you think? Aren't you getting sick of this bullshit? 'Cause it's becoming a real issue in my life!"
Chuckling...
GRAPS KID A: "I can see that! Let it out, I'm here for ya! Yeah, I definitely know what you mean, though..my patience has been wearing pretty thin lately as well. I'm having a hard time buying into all these superheroes with their sterile, generic, cookie-cutter, plastic personas. They all just seem to lack soul, y'know. It's actually kind of painful to watch. Good wrestling is an art and the art that I've come to respect is messy and opaque. It's the world of "The Wire", the paintings of Francis Bacon, the shrill dirtiness of The Clash. I like mess and this shit nowadays is too clean for my liking. I want self-doubt, confusion, loss, disgust, failure—then I want triumph. That’s a journey more to my liking and my reality."
GRAPS KID B: "For sure. Everything's definitely becoming a little too PG--toned down in favor of the diluted diet version. Watered-down, compromised and as things drag on--it’s like a bowl of gumbo that slowly turns into thin, reliable Campbell’s soup. Most promotions have CUT out the blood and done away with danger entirely which, don't get me wrong, isn't that big a deal, but knowing that ANYTHING can happen, at any time adds a whole lot of flavor to things. It really raises the stakes.. gets you invested. Has a certain color--blood red, I suppose--been drained from the sport to the point that it shines less bright? It sure feels that way.."
Looking on through the front window with concern...
JINGLE HORSE: "Their passion and love for wrestling seems to be bleeding out, flatlining."
CORRUPTS: "They're desatting, dude! They're desatting!"
Suddenly their robotic gaze broke free from the glow of the screen.
GRAPS KID A: "That's exactly it. So why would any of us watch something well after it has anything substantial to offer us, or worse, scrape together money to see the same things again and again only with a slightly new coat of paint? I don't get it."
One of their friends arrives late to the party.
GRAPS KID A: "Hey! Merry Christmas, bud. Glad you could make it. Grab a seat, we were just talking about how frustrated we are with the current state of wrestling."
GRAPS KID C: "That's 'cause you're watching the wrong stuff! Here, check this out."
He pulls out his phone and pulls up some footage of a recent Outliers match.
A: "What is it?"
B: "Yeah, what is it?"
C: "It's new.."
A: "Dear God, did he just slam her through like five tables?!"
C: "It's called Guerreros of Lucha.. fucking insane, right?"
B: "I didn't even know wrestling like this still existed! Who is this guy?"
C: "That's HEVVHOCORRVPTS. He's one half of The Outliers tag team. His partner, Sawtooth Grin, is one mean motor scooter, too. Talk about Angels with Filthy Souls. These guys are the syringe of adrenaline you need to revive your wrestling spirit! Force some of that Old Time Wrestling through your clogged arteries like Christmas Drano!"
A: "I'd given up hope that I would ever find joy again..I was lost but now I'm found, blind but now I see..it's a Christmas miracle!"
Jingle Horse turns to Corrupts.
JINGLE HORSE: "I have to say, Corrupts, you have a very unique ability to spread the L.O.V.E(Level Of ViolencE) wherever you go. But that was only one house. There are many houses on many streets filled with hopeless people who no longer believe in the TRUE spirit of wrestling. You have to wake them up; shake them from apathy. If this remains unaltered by the future, I fear all will be lost. But there is still time... Now, it's time for us to part, but before I go.."
Jingle leans in towards Hewhocorrupts and licks the pudding residue left on his face from earlier that night. When the Fudgsicle routine ends, Corrupts opens his eyes and Jingle is gone.
...Where we're going, we don't need eyes to see...
That all disappeared and was replaced by the stifling, deadening air of depression. Years have gone by, and there he is, still.
Hewhocorrupts finds himself in a monochrome world, a washed-out wasteland vacant of all life. A desert of song. A dislocated dystopia where fears and gut feelings begin to creep into observable reality. Thoughts play endlessly. He begins to feel trapped in this nightmarish terrorscape, wondering what might lie in wait for a lost soul to wander into their dark, concrete labyrinth. Deeper and deeper into a seemingly endless tomb, Corrupts searches for signs of life or anything that would alleviate the creeping dread that accompanied each step through the hollowed out streets.
There's a strange music emanating from the ground; beautiful melodies telling him terrible things.
The Gogolithic Mass rips through the darkness like wrapping paper. It's eyes like wormholes to where the wild things are. It's voice echoed around his bones.
The Alien. The Other. The Inconceivable. The Gogolithic Mass is a deathless specter from outer space who lurks in the darkness between worlds. A creature defined by its disregard for the natural laws of the universe as we understand them. It's a grotesque mockery of realities beyond comprehension whose disturbing otherness cannot be encompassed in any mortal tongue. Normal humans go mad just from witnessing its Alien Geometries. Reality itself warps around it. Any rules it follows are beyond our understanding, as are what motives it might have for any of its actions. I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought and if I go any further I risk complete and utter annihilation. I have looked upon all that the universe has to hold of horror and even the skies of spring and the flowers of summer will forever be poison to me. I am fighting for my sanity as well as my survival.
THE GOGOLITHIC MASS: "I am the Ghost of Guerreros Future. I rule the deep void. He who trespasses upon my domain shall be cast into the field of slow maw. His family shall suffer disease and be denied health coverage. His firstborn shall become an artist and endure financial incapacity and a crippling sense of deficiency until that distant dawn of my dark reign's end."
CORRUPTS: "But I brought you something sweet to munch on.. NOT ME, the brownie.."
HWC hands the offering to the creature while trying not to shit himself.
After devouring the brownie and some careful consideration...
GM: "The Trespasser shall on this day be freed. Having far outlived the familiarities of his old world, he shall greet with mounting despair, a grey and hopeless universe in which all things have abandoned presumption of his human sensibilities. The Trespasser then shall reflect on his sins against me. The Trespasser shall weep, and the Trespasser shall perish. His memory shall be lost in the chaotic manifold and forgotten for all time. It was said..so shall it be done. Amen."
CORRUPTS: "Amen. SO..what's there to do around here?"
GM: "Going down.."
CORRUPTS: "Alright, chief. Whatever you say."
Thousands of years of heaven above our heads and hell beneath our feet mean that "going down" can never be a positive gesture, and descents are often in fear or madness, rather than safety or comfort. When Dante begins his long descent into Hell in Inferno, he simply states, "I entered on the deep and savage way." Through mist and shadow, a small, suffocated light reveals the iron gate--here it opens and our dear brother is led down into a cemetery littered with tombstones.
GM: "We spin a world in a dizzying fall, to see the things that will happen to us all."
Corrupts is horrified to realize the names on the headstones are his friends--long dead and gone, food for worms to engorge.
SAWTOOTH GRIN
1987-2016
DIED TRAGICALLY RESCUING HIS AMIGOS FROM THE
WRECKAGE OF A DESTROYED SINKING BATTLESHIP
All his veins rushing with the sound of his beating heart...
CORRUPTS: "What is this Days of Future Past! Why the fuck are you showing me this!"
With cold indifference...
GM: "Changing the world is a tall order. A better future requires sacrifice. These Guerreros did not go gentle.. they raged against the dying of the light.. they gave everything to rescue the Spirit of Wrestling, but it was too late. At every crossroads on the path that leads to the future, tradition has placed ten thousand men to guard the past."
CORRUPTS: "This isn't possible, you have to bring them back!"
GM: "I cannot. The past is already written, the ink is dry. The stories they had written slipped away, their great deeds forgotten."
CORRUPTS: "Can't bring things back to life! Tell that to Jesus or his buddy Frankenstein!"
GM: "They were willing to give their entire lives to a moment--blood, sweat, and soul--to stir the audience's Spirit. They were beings who tasted life's nectar the moment they poured their hearts out onto the mat to fill someone else's with joy. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they knew that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes. They will ride eternal, shiny and chrome."
Corrupts' realizes there isn't much difference between loving someone and being afraid for them. Loving a person means you need them to stay: alive, around. But the shadow that love can't help cast is fear: fear that they won't stay alive or around--fear they'll be reckless, or doomed, or just walk away and not consider you ever again. With love, you're scared it will disappear. With fear, you're scared it never will. The trick, he understood now but could never quite manage to put into practice, was getting used to both of them at the same time. It was living in between...the trick was not minding that it hurts.
The Gogolithic Mass begins chanting and the nightmare intensifies...
GM: "Here we sow him in corruption, to be raised in corruption: an avenging ghost at many a sick-bedside, a testimony to future ages of how villainy and virtue once ruled this cursed dimension together. Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but if you start now you have a slim chance at a new ending.
GM: "This is a story of breaking out. It is as if you have typed IDDQD on life..so you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again. They are rage, brutal, without mercy. But you..you will be worse. Rip and tear, until it is done. Cut through them like piss through snow. You will be left as a reminder of what happens when hope is lost, when belief is forgotten and the true wrestling spirit dies! HEWHOCORRAMPUS! A message of hope for those who choose to hear it, and a warning for those who do not.."
GM: "You are the one. You can feed their dirty minds. You know what they want. Icon of symmetry, swallowing sides.. fall down in front of me just follow my eyes. But I've got to see you moving, waste no time. Teach me, make me holy--'til I can sell you lies. They can't get enough. Make a true believer of anyone..anyone...anyone...."
A triangular wormhole half-covered by purple darkness begins closing in on him. The metaphysical equivalent of a Google search, a portal through which you could step into a much wider world--a parallel realm of paranormal forces which collides with the real world. A deluge of voices come spilling in from the other side. After a sudden rush of static, the voices become clearer, but they sound like an AI in Westworld attempting to move beyond its intended parameters.
...there is nothing in the desert and no man needs nothing...
...that is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die...
...sanity is madness put to good use...
...these violent delights have violent ends...
...if someone leads but no one follows are they just out for a walk...
...is time the wheel that turns or the track it leaves behind...
...fight or flight strength comes when the lightning strikes...
...last christmas I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away...
...now cracks a noble heart good night sweet prince and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest...
...l'heure entre chien et loup...
...every act of perception is to some degree an act of creation and every act of memory is to some degree an act of imagination memory is never a duplicate of the original event but rather an ongoing act of creation...
...at night in dreams of a thousand moons and clear blue rain sometimes it seems as if we could build a love to free us from pain...
...what dreams may come...
...a child's rhyme stuck in my head it said that life is but a dream I've spent so many years in question to find I've known this all along...
...god's in his heaven, all's right with the world...
...the dreamers of the day are dangerous men...
...they're going to ruin everything...
...this is it don't get scared now...
CORRUPTS: "When I wake up.. I'm gettin' a CAT scan!"
Hewhocorrupts thrashes to life as he wakes up back in his apartment. Sucking in air like his heart stopped...
CORRUPTS: "HOOBASTANK!"
He snaps his head down to look at his watch, his vision slips in and out of focus.
CORRUPTS: "There's still time...it's still Christmas morning... Let the SLAY ride begin!"