Post by Dandy DiVito on Apr 7, 2019 22:58:30 GMT -5
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April 2, 2019, Doctor’s Office, Exam Room
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April 2, 2019, Doctor’s Office, Exam Room
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The scene opens with DD once again in a familiar place, the doctor’s office. This week, the doctor sits before DD staring at the patient chart with a concerned look on his face.
Doctor: Dandy, it’s just not adding up. None of this makes sense. Your brain is structurally sound and doesn’t display any overt signs of trauma. I know what you’re reporting as symptoms - dizziness, hallucinations, all that - and I know what I saw in your match this past week against Titan Jax, but the problem is pretty straight forward: there’s no physical evidence that any of this is a physical problem and not just an mental problem.
Dandy: You fuggin’ sayin’ I’m makin’ it up, an’ if I ain’t, I’m retarded?!
Doctor: No, Dandy, no. I’m saying we need to consider that this is a psychological condition that you’re attempting to treat with strategies that simply aren’t going to work.
Dandy: So wha’s nex’ then?
Doctor: I’m going to refer you to a psychiatrist.
Dandy: Nah, fuck that, man. I ain’t seein’ no shrink. Ain’ happenin’.
Doctor: Then I’m afraid you might just be stuck with this condition, Dandy.
Dandy: Man, if I can talk ma way outta havin’ it wit’ some headshrinker, I can just beat this shit wit’ raw ass desire.
Doctor: That’s not how any of this works, Dandy.
Dandy: We’ll see, I guess.
Doctor: Please don’t take this lightly. You need to address this problem… this condition in whatever way will best address it. You cannot just ignore it and see it go away, Dandy.
In the corner of the room off behind the doctor, Americana appears to DD.
Americana: Dandy, you need listen to doctor advice. If you no get help… who knows what happen to Dandy DiVito!
DD drops his head to avoid looking at the specter of Americana and to avoid drawing attention to the manifestation of his mental break.
Doctor: Look, I know it’s daunting. I know it’s intimidating. But you need to do something to save yourself from what’s happening here.
Dandy: If it ain’t a physical pro’lem, why tha hell it show up when I hit my fuggin’ head? Why ain’t I crazy before then?
Doctor: Have you changed anything else about your life recently? Started taking new medicines? A change in your recreational drug consumption? Great emotional trauma?
Dandy: I mean…
Americana: Be honest!
Dandy: ...I guess.
Doctor: What do you mean “I guess”?
Americana: Tell him!
Dandy: Well, this road schedule’s killin’ me. Drivin’ all them miles between cities an’ shows. Not bein’ able to share them miles a’ wheel time wit’ Meri…
Doctor: What have you been doing to overcome that stress and exhaustion?
Dandy: Ya’d prolly call it self-medicatin’.
Americana: Good! Tell him, Dandy!
Doctor: How so?
Dandy: Uh, I been takin’ some Adderall, ya know, jus’ ta stay awake…?
Doctor: And you didn’t think that would be important to disclose? What if I prescribed a medication that fatally interacts with Adderall and didn’t tell me you were taking it?
Dandy: I guess I’d be dead, huh?
Doctor: Yeah. You would, Dandy. You’d be dead and everyone would have just chalked it up to you being yet another dead junkie wrestler.
Dandy: Meh. Who even gives a damn, ya know? We fighta’s… we disposable. I’m jus’ here fo’ a good run, righ’? If it ain’ no long run, so be it.
Americana: Dandy! No!
Doctor: Forgive me for my kurtness, but that’s bullshit.
Dandy: Man, look. I got goals, sure. I wanna win tha Havok Rumble. I wanna be da World Cham-peen. I don’ wanna die young ‘r nothin’. But I understan’ they’s only so much I can control, an’ they ain’ no reason ta go completey fuggin’ up ma quality a’ life jus’ ‘cause I wanna be ‘live longa. Ain’t no sense in tha’ shit. I only wanna live a long time if I can be happy an’ enjoy ma’self.
Doctor: Well then keep taking illegally procured prescription drugs and failing to inform your doctors of your using. You certainly won’t live well or for a long time under those circumstances.
Americana: Dandy, Dandy, Dandy… *sigh*
Dandy: Am I gon’ live long enough ta win tha Havok Rumble?
Doctor: Probably.
Dandy: Am I gon’ live long enough ta make it ta Evolution?
Doctor: Probably.
Dandy: Then I’m good.
Americana: You being stupid, Dandy! Stubborn ass mule!
Dandy: Stubborn? Sure. Stupid, fuck nah!
The doctor’s head cocks with concern.
Doctor: Are you seeing…
Dandy: Uh, ah, nah. Nope. Nothin’ weird goin’ on. Sorry.
Doctor: So you’re not communicating with a halluc…
Dandy: No.
Doctor: Um… ok…? Then who are you talking to? I didn’t say anything about you being stupid or stubborn, so what were you replying to?
Dandy: I misheard you. No big deal, man. Move on.
Doctor: I have another appointment I have to get to, but please make me a promise…
Americana evaporates as the doctor rises and collects his records to leave.
Doctor: ...you have to take care of yourself. I don’t care if you do it for yourself, your professional image, your goals, your family, or whatever… Just take care of yourself. Just… do it.
The doctor solemnly walks out of the exam room as the scene fades.
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April 2, 2019, Dandy’s House, Living Room
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April 2, 2019, Dandy’s House, Living Room
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DD is sitting in his dark living room. He lets out a deep sigh and grabs the phone off the hook on the table. He dials a number slowly and with hesitation. We only hear his end of the call.
Dandy: Hello?
Other Line: ...
Dandy: Uh, yeah. I wanna talk ta Americana Yamamoto.
Other Line: ...
Dandy: Yeah. He should be a patient… uh, yeah... Resident there.
Other Line: ...
Dandy: Wait! What?!
Other Line: …
Dandy: But I was tol’ he is there rehabbin’.
Other Line: …
Dandy: Well where tha hell is he?!
Other Line: ...
Dandy: Nah, fuck that. You can tell me! You gotta tell me! NOW!
Other Line: …
Dandy: COME ON!
Other Line: … *disconnects*
DD slams the phone back into the receiver.
Dandy: FUCK!
DD sits back on his couch, his head hanging back in disappointment over his friend being completely MIA. He sits in silence for a long stretch and eventually nods off to sleep with his head craned back awkwardly. Because he has been sleeping poorly for a number of days and weeks, Dandy fades into dreamland rather quickly.
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April 2, 2019, Dandy’s DReAmWOrlD, In His Head (In His HeeeEEEEEEaaaaAAAAAd! Dandy! Dandy! Dandy! Eh, eh!)
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April 2, 2019, Dandy’s DReAmWOrlD, In His Head (In His HeeeEEEEEEaaaaAAAAAd! Dandy! Dandy! Dandy! Eh, eh!)
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“Dream Daddy” Wesley stands firm in the midst of a vague, dark fog. Wesley is clad in his wrestling gear and has his arms crossed tersely over his chest staring a hole in DD.
Dandy: You Wesley, huh?
As DD speaks, the environment begins to develop like a photograph and becomes an open field on a blank prairie. Wesley remains unmoved, arms crossed, and staring straight at DD.
Dandy: Not much fo’ talkin’, eh?
Dandy grabs a clod of dirt off the ground and throws it in Wesley’s general direction. Wesley is unmoved.
Dandy: You even fuckin’ real? I been strugglin’ ta tell wha’s real an’ what ain’t recently.
Wesley drops his arms to his sides and steps forward toward DD.
Dandy: Well, ‘least ya can move, I guess. But you fuckin’ real?!
Wesley finally opens his mouth but no words come out as he silently mouths words at DD.
Dandy: Goddamn it. Wha’s this shit?
DD has an epiphany wash over him.
Dandy: Ohhhhhhhhh! Fuggin’ DREAM Daddy! I’m fuggin’ dreamin’, huh?
Suddenly Wesley’s voice rings out and gives words to his otherwise silently moving mouth.
Wesley: YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME ANY LONGER!
Dandy: Woah, woah, dude. I ain’ tha man who been puttin’ tha boots to ya. Tha’s Torture.
Wesley: YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME ANY LONGER!
Dandy: Man, you got anything else ta say?
Wesley: YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME ANY LONGER!
Dandy: Guess not.
Wesley: YOU CAN’T PRETEND I DON’T EXIST!
Dandy: Tha’s TORTURE! T-O-R-T-U-R-E! Yo’ boss. Not Dandy. I ain’ ta blame here, son.
Wesley: YOU CAN’T PRETEND I DON’T EXIST!
Dandy: Man, I’ma fuggin’ do ev’ryt’ing I can ta make you pay fo’ annoyin’ me, even if it is jus’ a dream, Daddy.
Wesley: YOUR TITLE WILL LEAVE YOU!
Dandy: Nah. Can’t leave if I ain’ lettin’ ‘er go.
Wesley: SHE WILL LEAVE! THEY ALWAYS LEAVE!
Dandy: Ooooooh! Not jus’ repeatin’ shit? Tha’s a fun wrinkle.
Wesley: SHE’S GONE! SHE’S ALREADY GONE! YOU JUST DON’T KNOW IT!
Dandy: Man, this ain’t even no title match. You can pin me an’ still be irrelevant, son.
Wesley: SHE ALWAYS LEAVES!
Dandy: Fuck, dude. You got some mommy issues ‘r somethin’? Fuckin’ wifey lea’ yo’ ass?
Wesley’s arms finally drop from his chest to a deflated position at his sides.
Dandy: Ahh! I heard fellas at caterin’ talkin’ ‘bout some poor bastard’s wifey was leavin’ ‘im. Didn’t know it was you. Kinda funny.
Wesley looks pissed.
Dandy: What?! Wit’in a week you get booked agains’ Dandy DiVito an’ yo’ wifey up an’ leave yo’ ass. You takin’ the two wors’ beatin’s a yo’ life in the span ‘a one fuggin’ week ain’t funny ta you?! Man, we got diff’rnt standa’ds fo’ funny, I guess.
Wesley: YOU’LL PAY!
Dandy: Nah, dude. You ain’ nothin’ but a dream. You ain’ even know ‘bout this fo’ real. Dandy’s a’ active dreama. Ain’ nothin’ happen in here tha’ I ain’t makin’ happen.
Out of the vague distance, a voice screams out.
Voice: Dandy!
Wesley disappears with a look of pure rage on his face.
Voice: DANDY!
The voice is familiar to Dandy. It’s Americana.
Americana: DANDY! You said you take care of Americana! You said you never leave! Where is Dandy DiVito right now? NOT HERE! NO WHERE NEAR AMERICANA! He hit me with bat and leave! Dandy do not care about Americana! Dandy do not care about no one who not Dandy DiVito!
Dandy is clearly wounded by the outburst.
Dandy: Meri! I didn’ mean ta leave you! They put you somewhere! I don’ know where you wen’!
Americana is gone. Dandy drops to his knees, destroyed. Wesley reappears.
Wesley: Isn’t so funny when one you love abandons you, is it?
Dandy: Fuck you.
Wesley: What? Not as in control as you thought?
Dandy: FUCK YOU!
Wesley: The truth, like loss, is often painful, champ.
Dandy: Tha’ pain ain’ nothin’ compared ta tha pain caused by pissin’ me off!
Wesley: You said it yourself... I’m not even real. I’m just a dream.
Dandy: Real Dream Daddy Wesley is gonna pay fo’ tha sins of Dream Dream Daddy Wesley, mothafucka.
A loud, distant noise startles DD and the dream world fades to nothing as DD wakes up.
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April 8, 2019, Backstage at Clash, Dandy’s Locker Room
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April 8, 2019, Backstage at Clash, Dandy’s Locker Room
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A camera crew knocks on DD’s locker room door, and frustrated, DD rises from his seated position as he prepares for his match with Wesley. DD opens the door and waves the camera crew inside.
Dandy: Get the fug’ in here. ‘Bout time y’all arrive! Fuck. I tol’ y’all ta come here like an hour ago.
Camera Man: Sorry, Mr. DiVito! The day of a show, we have crazy shooting schedules and production meetings out the ass. We got here as fast as we could.
Dandy: Excuses, man. I don’ ‘cept none of ‘em fo’ myself or nobody else neitha. Just set up an’ le’s do dis.
Camera Man: Why did you opt for a no-interviewer segment this week?
Dandy: I ain’ gotta answer yo questions, man. Just turn yo’ camera on an’ lemme do ma t’ing.
Camera Man: Ok, ok. It’s on. Just say what’s on your mind and we’ll edit out the pre-stuff.
Dandy: Fine. Rollin’...
Look, mothafucka. Look, Dream. I’m out here holdin’ this fuckin’ place down. I don’ give a single scaldin’ shit if I gotta work dirty if that shit means I win. Tha’ ain’t gon’ be good fo’ yo’ this week. I know you got some, uh, life shit hittin’ yo’ fan. Leas’ she ain’ preggo, son. Ya coul’ be losin’ yo’ wifey an’ yo’ baby. See, Dandy jus’ full a’ bright sides! Ain’t I a peach?
But jus’ ‘cause ya takin’ a headfirs’ sled run down shit mountain don’ mean I’ma take it easy on ya. Yo’ gettin’ 100 percent a’ Dandy Fuckin’ DiVito tonight, son. You gettin’ every fuggin’ tooth an’ nail I got ta give. All the blood an’ sweat I gotta spill - mine or yo’s - ta whoop tha’ ass in recor’ time, I’ma do it.
I respec’ whatchu doin’. I do. I respec’ tha hustle an’ resolve it take fo’ you, a man ain’t a single person in tha world nobody wanna see, ta force yo’self on these people an’ this comp’ny. D’you tha’ when you make yo’ way to tha ring, you ain’ supposed ta be able to hear a pin drop, Wes? Ya can say wha’ ya wan’ ‘bout me, my man, but I GET PEOPLE ON THEY FEET! I make ‘em feel somet’in’! I make ‘em care! Love or hate, they feel! You? Fuck, man. You da Dream Daddy ‘cause you put motherfuckers to sleep. Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout you standin’ out or feelin’ lik’ nothin’. You tha tapioca puddin’ a’ Action Wrestlin’... Ain’t nobody askin’ fo’ you as a firs’ choice, but if tha’s all tha’s ‘vailable, they’ll make it work.
So wha’s gonna happen tanight is tha’ I’m gonna make ya know what it feels like ta make a crowd give a shit. You welcome, by tha way. We bot’ know ya ain’ doin’ that shit on yo’ own, Dream. You ain’ in my league, but I’m mo’ than happy ta’ bring yo’ ass to tha real show an’ promp’ly take ya righ’ tha fuck outta it. See ya tonight, Dream.
DD gives the cut sign, and the crew fades the scene to black.