Post by Odin Balfore on Nov 26, 2021 14:35:25 GMT -5
Turmoil
TV Title 3-way
__________________
Thanksgiving night.
TV Title 3-way
__________________
Thanksgiving night.
In the charred ruins of his Minnesota home under a clear night sky, Odin Balfore walks among the fading memories like a dying heartbeat. The All-Father is stoic and reserved as he clears debris out of his direct walking path. We fade on a man without a purpose.
________________________
Three nights prior.
In the holding cell of the St. Cloud police station, The All-Father sits with a few men who also share a portion of his bad luck.
“Mav’,” Calls Jeff, entering the room from a locked door. “You made bail.” A large Texan man in a white suit and white cowboy hat follows behind. He’s arrogant and smug with a grin on his face from ear to Texan ear. He tugs on his blazer with extra pride.
“Where did all this wrestlin’ nonsense bring you, but back to me; seems you’ve had a rough night. Or two -years.”
“I could have bailed myself out. I have the money,” responds Odin.
“Do you?” inquires the Texan. “Because from what all my sources tell me, your island nation is under civil war, you’re to be killed if you go to Atlantis, your Norwegian passport has been revoked, your house in Minnesota burned to the ground, and your pal what's his name - chuck? Well, Chucky boy ain't paying you because you ain't worth shit in a bucket. So where does that leave us, old friend? For the past two years, you’ve been going backward. Morning a daddy that you never loved - nor did he love you. Questing for revenge that left you hollow and you have nothing to show for it. You’ve been disrespected at every turn. I’m offering you a way out. Again. But you know the rules, Mav, if you wanna dance, you gotta pay the band. I’ll leave you to think it over.”
“I’d say take the deal, Mav’.” pipes up Jeff.
“Don’t listen to Jeff, he’s a shitbum cop in a shitbum town praying to corporate Gods for a pension and cholesterol pills. But you, I always said that you could be more. At one point, you used to be, but now - “ The Texan knocks on the cell. “ Now, we’ll see.”
_________________________
Thanksgiving Night.
Back in Minnesota, and the ruins of his life, Odin Balfore comes back to reality. He speaks to us in that cold, stoic, melancholy tone. As if he’s also secretly talking to himself as much as he is his opponent.
“John Back, you are so thrilled and honored to have me grace your career. Although, you are unsure why. I say this plainly: Do not get excited. You are not special. You have nothing that I want. You are just in the right place at the right time. I am a man naked, stripped of all possessions, pride, honor, dignity - everything. Everything has gone wrong for me. I used to be the biggest name in this business and now I’m slowly becoming nothing. Let that worry you, John Black. Let it chill you to your bones because you know what it means when a man has nothing to lose. I also have nothing to gain. That should worry you more. You’re not standing in my way - I’m standing in my way. At Turmoil, in that ring, when I’m hitting you, I’m hitting me. I’m beating the breaks off these past two years of my career. Full stop.
You have a TV title. I used to be one of the best TV champions in history.
You wear sweatpants. I used to make men sweat.
You know pain. I used to cause it.
You and Psycho Vindel will see how far I’ve fallen, how shitty I’m coping, and how there is no surviving. The plane is going down and you’re coming with me. That’s not a threat. John, just - just don’t come to work on Sunday. Do me a favor, and save yourself from the man that I’m slowly devolving into. Return your champ wear to footlocker, buy some kicks and run- not from what I’m going to do to you but from what I’m going to do to myself. God took everything from me. He took my hands. He made me unwanted and yet here I am unbroken with these very same hands.
Perhaps I can appeal to your sense of reason, I doubt Vindel has any. That's ok. Let him bear the brunt of MY TURMOIL.
Someone has to pay the band, John. Don’t let it be you. Don’t come to work because I’m coming to work and I’m not sure what that is going to look like but I know what I’m becoming.
I don’t know you and you aren't familiar with me and yet collateral damage cares not for formalities. John, if you want to keep that gold around your waist, you better run.
I’m killing strangers so I don’t kill the ones that I love, John, and I don’t have anyone else to love. I have nothing left and if you come to Turmoil, neither will you.
I stand in the ruins of my life. Ruined by my own hands. Do not force my hands to do the same to yours.
You told John Blade that you’d do anything to keep that belt. You told him that you don’t care, that you’d ball out. We’ll see how true that is because Sunday night, I’m putin in the work with these hands - turning triumphs into tragedies. Turning champions into whatever it is that I’m becoming. One way or the other, we’ll both find out who I am.
Unwanted.
Unbroken.
Odin Balfore."