Post by THE Willie Pete on Apr 6, 2020 22:50:32 GMT -5
Sober
The room was shockingly unclean. As if the previous occupants never stopped to pick anything up. The room reads like a litany of reminders of what it looks like to be broken and pathetic. The wallpaper is torn and behind the yellowed paisley the spray painted head of a goat peeks out, with eyes that look hauntingly real.
This place falls within God’s blindspot.
The door opens abruptly as a man crashes through. He’s carrying the burden of loneliness, but within his pocket, he carries the key to the gateway to becoming whole.
He falls into the corner, landing atop a sheetless mattress which is stained and quite grotesque, but it somehow suits him and his state.
His head is throbbing - a symphony of kettledrums.
He pushes sweaty hair out of his face revealing himself as Willie Pete. He doubles over as waves of chills shake him. His body is alive with sensation - nervousness and agitation are palpable, as if ants are marching all over him.
He looks up at the head of the goat peering back at him.
“You probably like what you see, don’t you? It’s not my fault, she gave me a sample, and here I am again. All it took was one little taste and now I’m hooked. I’ve tried, tried so hard to stay sober, but it’s impossible,” he spits. “I can’t do this anymore.”
He swallowed painfully against a dry throat as he pulled a hypodermic needle from his jacket pocket. This hypodermic was unique, it was large and glass and a deep red fluorescent liquid churned within. He stared at the needle and somehow the liquid illuminated the room completely with a dangerous red glow.
The goat looks on as Willie pulls off his belt and uses it to tie off his arm. He grips the free end of the belt with his teeth as he stares into the eyes of the goat. He finds a good vein.
He grumbles around the belt, “I’m honestly really shocked that she didn’t conjure you, but we’ll get to that. For now, let’s get fucked up.”
The needle dives into the vein with ease and slowly plunges the liquid into his arm. The liquid enters the fast track that is his circulatory system, lighting it up bright red as it goes. He exhales peacefully as he slumps back against the wall.
His arms drop hard against the mattress beneath him and the needle skates across the floor, rolling to a stop to reveal a label. In small print, it reads ‘HeroWynne’.
Relapse
Release. The drug takes over and soon Willie is lost in the world behind his eyelids.
There’s a light murmuring of sound as Willie’s eyes open and he sits up. He’s in a dark amphitheater within a circle of cast stone plinths. He cranes his head around, trying to seek out the murmurs only to find a woman with her back to him. She’s sitting within the confines of a pentagram. She’s speaking to someone beyond Willie’s vision. Everything beyond the woman is blurred.
He stands up and walks towards the woman. She’s that high he’s chasing. He sits down within the pentagram with her, back to back. Her bright red hair rests against his and he finds her aroma intoxicating.
He licks his lips. This is paradise.
“I couldn’t handle the idea of only facing you once, Wendy. You didn’t think much of me then and I’m sure you won’t think much of me now, but that’s what you do. You’re playing your role. You are a monster and you see yourself as such. You stick to that blueprint and I commend you on keeping it between the lines,” he lets out a chuckle, “I could help you step beyond your limitations if you’d just let me in. We could be a hell of a team, you know that, right? Still, every time I find that crack in your emotional armor, you push me away. But look, as soon as I took the hit, here I am with another chance to get through to you.”
Willie nestles his cheek against her hair, almost as if she were a pillow.
“This might seem creepy, but this is my high and I’ll do with it whatever the fuck I want.”
Contrast Cut: The peaceful scene is replaced by the roar of a crowd and the jarring sound of Kaelan Laughlin’s head crashing into steel steps.
Willie Pete stands watching the events unfold. He steals a nearby fan’s popcorn and takes a handful and stuffs it into his mouth. He watches as Wendy’s cockiness gets in the way of her win. He watches as her hopes and dreams fall apart.
“You told them to all stay home that night. You didn’t want their help. You wanted to do it all on your own. You claimed the War Horse Championship as your own before it even found its way into your hands. I’m sure you’ll say the same about that Championship before our bout, but from where I’m standing right now, I just see you as the person who stood in the way of Kaven Drell and Kaelan Laughlin’s main event at Relapse. You were window dressing. I really hope that doesn’t sit well with you, Wendy, because It doesn’t sit well with me at all.” He shakes his head, “Now, will you call upon the help of your gods? Will you call upon all of the mythical creatures to help you destroy me? Or will you assume that I am much less of a threat than Kaelan Laughlin and allow your cockiness to once again get in the way of your goals? Where is your head at?”
He sees Wendy Wynne leaving the ring, she’s distraught and angry, as she should be, and he also sees Kaven Drell ignoring her completely.
“What a dickhead.”
SMASH CUT
Now we’re surrounded by stars. Somewhere far beyond this world. Willie is floating.
“It really does feel good to chase this high again, Wendy. You brought me into Union Battleground with a bang and I couldn’t resist just one more taste. But now that I have you pumping through my veins, I feel your sadness, your regret, and your fear. When we first faced each other, I underestimated you fully. I thought you were ‘all talk’ and that you wouldn’t ‘back it up’. Mistake. I found out the hard way that I couldn’t have been further from the truth. Sure, I was rusty and barely even tried, but still, I faced a strong woman with nothing to lose.”
Weightless, Willie spins a three-sixty and stops.
“Wendy is a hell of a drug,” he quips, “Seriously though, I barely tried in our first match. No ego.”
Now he’s surrounded images of Wendy Wynne. Like he travelled into a wormhole of Google Image search results for ‘Wendy Wynne’. She’s intoxicating. Her red hair, her pouty lips, those eyes.
“But now, you’ve seen what happens when you leave all of your archaic beliefs behind and face the world on your own. You’ve seen what it really looks like to be completely out of control. You watched helplessly as Kaven Drell and Kaelan Laughlin moved up to the top in a spot where you could have been. You’re shaken now. You’re going to put on a strong facade and I commend you on that, but now you’re weakened. You’re unsure of what will happen next. Ultimately, you might not be cut out for the War Horse Championship. Uncertainty isn’t your thing, is it?”
FLASHFORWARD
Now we’re back in the room as the goat begins to crack the plaster and tear the yellowed paisley wallpaper as it begins to enter the room. Soon it breaks free from the wall and reveals itself to be none other than Baphomet.
It stands over the Willie Pete who once was. The Willie Pete who believed Wendy Wynne was a drug worth taking. Baphomet pulls that Willie Pete to his feet and, knowing it needs to bring balance back to the world, thrusts that old sad version of Willie Pete crashing through the nearest window.
The old Willie opens his eyes and calls out towards Baphomet, “Sweet cameo”
Baphomet waves and winks.
That version of Willie Pete falls six stories before…
SPLAT
The body hits the ground hard with a thick thud and rush of crimson red as the camera zooms out, revealing THE REAL Willie Pete.
He looks great - dressed well in a Brioni Bespoke pinstripe suit, shirt by Luigi Borrelli, silk tie by Stefano Ricci, and shoes by Berluti. This look is finished by a fedora by Lock & Co. Hatters of London.
(So fucking fancy. Special shout out to Tony Chu)
“Maybe I was wrong all along, Wendy. Maybe you weren’t the high I needed to chase. Maybe this relapse was all fabricated for your ego’s enjoyment. But your ego can’t get you everything, in fact, it gets in your way. You’re out of control. You’re out of your head. Your judgement has been clouded and soon, you’ll watch another opportunity to clutch the War Horse Championship slip away. Only this time, it’ll be me.”
He pauses, “Why? Because Willie Wins. Always.”
Willie takes his fedora off and spins it with one hand as he spins and channels Fred Astaire as gives the fans a little dance number before CUT
The room was shockingly unclean. As if the previous occupants never stopped to pick anything up. The room reads like a litany of reminders of what it looks like to be broken and pathetic. The wallpaper is torn and behind the yellowed paisley the spray painted head of a goat peeks out, with eyes that look hauntingly real.
This place falls within God’s blindspot.
The door opens abruptly as a man crashes through. He’s carrying the burden of loneliness, but within his pocket, he carries the key to the gateway to becoming whole.
He falls into the corner, landing atop a sheetless mattress which is stained and quite grotesque, but it somehow suits him and his state.
His head is throbbing - a symphony of kettledrums.
He pushes sweaty hair out of his face revealing himself as Willie Pete. He doubles over as waves of chills shake him. His body is alive with sensation - nervousness and agitation are palpable, as if ants are marching all over him.
He looks up at the head of the goat peering back at him.
“You probably like what you see, don’t you? It’s not my fault, she gave me a sample, and here I am again. All it took was one little taste and now I’m hooked. I’ve tried, tried so hard to stay sober, but it’s impossible,” he spits. “I can’t do this anymore.”
He swallowed painfully against a dry throat as he pulled a hypodermic needle from his jacket pocket. This hypodermic was unique, it was large and glass and a deep red fluorescent liquid churned within. He stared at the needle and somehow the liquid illuminated the room completely with a dangerous red glow.
The goat looks on as Willie pulls off his belt and uses it to tie off his arm. He grips the free end of the belt with his teeth as he stares into the eyes of the goat. He finds a good vein.
He grumbles around the belt, “I’m honestly really shocked that she didn’t conjure you, but we’ll get to that. For now, let’s get fucked up.”
The needle dives into the vein with ease and slowly plunges the liquid into his arm. The liquid enters the fast track that is his circulatory system, lighting it up bright red as it goes. He exhales peacefully as he slumps back against the wall.
His arms drop hard against the mattress beneath him and the needle skates across the floor, rolling to a stop to reveal a label. In small print, it reads ‘HeroWynne’.
Relapse
Release. The drug takes over and soon Willie is lost in the world behind his eyelids.
There’s a light murmuring of sound as Willie’s eyes open and he sits up. He’s in a dark amphitheater within a circle of cast stone plinths. He cranes his head around, trying to seek out the murmurs only to find a woman with her back to him. She’s sitting within the confines of a pentagram. She’s speaking to someone beyond Willie’s vision. Everything beyond the woman is blurred.
He stands up and walks towards the woman. She’s that high he’s chasing. He sits down within the pentagram with her, back to back. Her bright red hair rests against his and he finds her aroma intoxicating.
He licks his lips. This is paradise.
“I couldn’t handle the idea of only facing you once, Wendy. You didn’t think much of me then and I’m sure you won’t think much of me now, but that’s what you do. You’re playing your role. You are a monster and you see yourself as such. You stick to that blueprint and I commend you on keeping it between the lines,” he lets out a chuckle, “I could help you step beyond your limitations if you’d just let me in. We could be a hell of a team, you know that, right? Still, every time I find that crack in your emotional armor, you push me away. But look, as soon as I took the hit, here I am with another chance to get through to you.”
Willie nestles his cheek against her hair, almost as if she were a pillow.
“This might seem creepy, but this is my high and I’ll do with it whatever the fuck I want.”
Contrast Cut: The peaceful scene is replaced by the roar of a crowd and the jarring sound of Kaelan Laughlin’s head crashing into steel steps.
Willie Pete stands watching the events unfold. He steals a nearby fan’s popcorn and takes a handful and stuffs it into his mouth. He watches as Wendy’s cockiness gets in the way of her win. He watches as her hopes and dreams fall apart.
“You told them to all stay home that night. You didn’t want their help. You wanted to do it all on your own. You claimed the War Horse Championship as your own before it even found its way into your hands. I’m sure you’ll say the same about that Championship before our bout, but from where I’m standing right now, I just see you as the person who stood in the way of Kaven Drell and Kaelan Laughlin’s main event at Relapse. You were window dressing. I really hope that doesn’t sit well with you, Wendy, because It doesn’t sit well with me at all.” He shakes his head, “Now, will you call upon the help of your gods? Will you call upon all of the mythical creatures to help you destroy me? Or will you assume that I am much less of a threat than Kaelan Laughlin and allow your cockiness to once again get in the way of your goals? Where is your head at?”
He sees Wendy Wynne leaving the ring, she’s distraught and angry, as she should be, and he also sees Kaven Drell ignoring her completely.
“What a dickhead.”
SMASH CUT
Now we’re surrounded by stars. Somewhere far beyond this world. Willie is floating.
“It really does feel good to chase this high again, Wendy. You brought me into Union Battleground with a bang and I couldn’t resist just one more taste. But now that I have you pumping through my veins, I feel your sadness, your regret, and your fear. When we first faced each other, I underestimated you fully. I thought you were ‘all talk’ and that you wouldn’t ‘back it up’. Mistake. I found out the hard way that I couldn’t have been further from the truth. Sure, I was rusty and barely even tried, but still, I faced a strong woman with nothing to lose.”
Weightless, Willie spins a three-sixty and stops.
“Wendy is a hell of a drug,” he quips, “Seriously though, I barely tried in our first match. No ego.”
Now he’s surrounded images of Wendy Wynne. Like he travelled into a wormhole of Google Image search results for ‘Wendy Wynne’. She’s intoxicating. Her red hair, her pouty lips, those eyes.
“But now, you’ve seen what happens when you leave all of your archaic beliefs behind and face the world on your own. You’ve seen what it really looks like to be completely out of control. You watched helplessly as Kaven Drell and Kaelan Laughlin moved up to the top in a spot where you could have been. You’re shaken now. You’re going to put on a strong facade and I commend you on that, but now you’re weakened. You’re unsure of what will happen next. Ultimately, you might not be cut out for the War Horse Championship. Uncertainty isn’t your thing, is it?”
FLASHFORWARD
Now we’re back in the room as the goat begins to crack the plaster and tear the yellowed paisley wallpaper as it begins to enter the room. Soon it breaks free from the wall and reveals itself to be none other than Baphomet.
It stands over the Willie Pete who once was. The Willie Pete who believed Wendy Wynne was a drug worth taking. Baphomet pulls that Willie Pete to his feet and, knowing it needs to bring balance back to the world, thrusts that old sad version of Willie Pete crashing through the nearest window.
The old Willie opens his eyes and calls out towards Baphomet, “Sweet cameo”
Baphomet waves and winks.
That version of Willie Pete falls six stories before…
SPLAT
The body hits the ground hard with a thick thud and rush of crimson red as the camera zooms out, revealing THE REAL Willie Pete.
He looks great - dressed well in a Brioni Bespoke pinstripe suit, shirt by Luigi Borrelli, silk tie by Stefano Ricci, and shoes by Berluti. This look is finished by a fedora by Lock & Co. Hatters of London.
(So fucking fancy. Special shout out to Tony Chu)
“Maybe I was wrong all along, Wendy. Maybe you weren’t the high I needed to chase. Maybe this relapse was all fabricated for your ego’s enjoyment. But your ego can’t get you everything, in fact, it gets in your way. You’re out of control. You’re out of your head. Your judgement has been clouded and soon, you’ll watch another opportunity to clutch the War Horse Championship slip away. Only this time, it’ll be me.”
He pauses, “Why? Because Willie Wins. Always.”
Willie takes his fedora off and spins it with one hand as he spins and channels Fred Astaire as gives the fans a little dance number before CUT