Post by Dandy DiVito on Nov 18, 2018 23:12:53 GMT -5
-----Gentlemen’s Club - London, England - Nov. 15, 2018-----
The scene opens in a rocuous club. The house lights are low, but the flashing stage lights are whirling around and illuminating the dancers and clients in the nearby rows. Dandy DiVito is seated in a private booth with his friend and manager, Americana, seated in the next booth over. Dancers are giving each man private dances, and they are giving each man everything they have. Americana is loving the attention and incidental contact his dancer occasionally makes with his groin. DD has a dead look on his face and sits awkwardly in that his whole body appears to be rigid. DD maintains a thousand yard stare off into the distance. Americana screams out in his thick Japanese accent in an effort to communicate with DD over the exceptionally loud music.
Americana: Dandy! This is great!
DD maintains his silence and rigid sitting posture.
Americana: DANDY!
Again, DD does not respond. Americana shrugs and chalks it up to the music being too loud. As the song ends, Americana hands his dancer a wad of cash, and she skips away happily after kissing Americana’s cheek. DD remains seated looking like Chris falling into the Sunken Place in “Get Out”. DD’s dancer approaches Americana for payment, and just as before, Americana hands her a wad of bills and she happily walks away. Americana swings around the divider that separates the two seats and finds DD nearly catatonic. Americana immediately slaps DD on the shoulder.
Americana: Did it work?
DD snaps back to attention, looks at Americana and smiles.
DD: Oh, yeah, man. Aw hell yeah!
Americana: Explain? I do not really know what you doing?
DD: I watched that shitty little promo Ol’ Abbie cut last week.
DD insultingly mimics Abigail Voorhees’ intonation and voice.
DD: Your mind is on the woman that walks outside the ring. I have been pulling your strings. Your dick is running the show. Little side boob, a batting of eyelashes, and you forget what you are doing. Bitch.
Americana: But how does that mean you sit in chair with stripper?
DD: Meri, Meri, Meri… You don’t get it?
Americana: No, Dandy. I do not follow.
DD: I had to make sure I could turn off my dick, man. If there’s even an ounce of bingo in my mayonnaise cannon, she might use that weapon for Bull.
Americana: But Americana is here to stop her, Dandy!
DD: I know, Meri. And you did a hell of a job on Ol’ Abbie on Monday. Tha’ knee… beautiful.
Americana smiles proudly.
Americana: Americana smashed her face!
DD: You sure did, buddy.
DD tussles Americana’s hair.
DD: You can keep ‘er in check physically, but the sexually manipulative shit? Tha’s all on me. Ain’t nothin’ anyone but me can do ‘bout tha’.
Americana: I think I understand.
DD: So what’s your plan for the physical side of Turmoil.
Americana: I am still thinking about it, but I may try handcuff me and her together.
DD: Ha! That’s fuckin’ brilliant, Meri.
Americana smiles wide.
Americana: Thank you, Dandy. I thought you might like that plan.
The next song starts playing at the club, and the conversation is drown out entirely. DD gestures to Americana indicating that they should leave the club, and they both head for the door and the scene fades.
-----Acupuncture Clinic - London, England - Nov. 16, 2018-----
The scene opens again in the lobby of an acupuncture clinic. The guys are seated in the waiting room, waiting to be called back to the clinic room. Americana is excited and ready to go, but DD appears to be uneasy and nervous.
DD: Dude, are you sure this is a good idea?
Americana: No fear, Dandy. You are safe. My people use acupuncture for many years. It work to make stress and injury go away. You will be more ready to fight Bull with loose, limber body.
DD: Alright, man. I guess I’ll trust ya’ on this.
Americana: Besides, after the ring you put through your… you know… Well, that is much worse than the small needle acupuncture person use.
DD: I guess, man. I guess.
Americana: Come on, man. You put a big ring through your… dick. Man up for this. It will help. I promise.
DD: Yeah, ok, man. My nerves are prolly just gonna be bitin’ at me ‘til this is ova’.
Americana: I understand. It’s… what is the word? Intimidating…?
DD: Yea, tha’s the word.
Americana: You just have to not be little bitch. Solved problem.
DD gives Americana side eye, and Americana laughs riotously.
Americana: I am just taking a shit on you, Dandy.
DD: Woah, dude. No. The phrase is “giving you shit.” When you “take a shit,” you, uh...
DD mimes the action of something coming from his backside and Americana snickers.
Americana: I will not take a shit on you, Dandy. I will give you shit.
As they chat, a member of the office personnel call out for DD. DD rises from his chair, but Americana remains seated. DD looks at him expectantly.
DD: You comin’?
Americana is startled.
Americana: Oh! You want me to come back with you? I, uh, I can, um, do that, I guess.
DD: I’m gonna be face down in this damn table. I’ma need you to keep an eye on everything for me. I ain’t finna get some creeper asshole pokin’ me an’, uh, pokin’ me.
Americana: Ah, yes. I stand guard.
The two follow the staffer to the back, and they enter the acupuncture room the staffer directs them to. As the staffer hands DD a robe, DD takes it and listens to the directions from the staffer: strip down to underwear, wear the robe, and sit on the table until the acupuncturist comes in. DD follows the directions as Americana takes a seat on a bench in the room. They wait there patiently for a stretch until a knock at the door breaks the silence.
DD: Come in.
The acupuncturist comes through the door.
Acupuncturist: Hello! Go ahead and lay face down on the table there, and I’ll get everything set up.
DD follows the directions as the acupuncturist makes eye contact with Americana and reacts in surprise.
Acupuncturist: Oh we have a guest! Hello to you as well!
Americana: Uh, hi.
The chipper acupuncturist opens a cabinet and retrieves the needle set for DD’s session.
Acupuncturist: So, Mr… DiVito, is it? Ah, yes. Mr. DiVito, I’m going to be putting these needles in your back in spots that will help your body release trapped tension and make your muscles totally calm. If you have any questions or concerns, you can always stop me throughout the procedure and I’ll talk you through what’s happening.
DD: Doc, I fuggin’ hate needles. I’m nervous as shit.
Acupuncturist: First and foremost, I have to establish that I am not a doctor per se. I am a trained professional though, and your nerves are perfectly natural, Mr. DiVito.
DD’s head flies up off the table and he turns his head to eyeball the acupuncturist.
DD: You ain’t no fuggin’ doctor?
Acupuncturist: Uh, no, sir.
DD’s gaze shoots to Americana as DD sits up on the table again.
DD: What the fuck’d you get me into, Meri?!
Americana: Dandy, I did not know. In America, I only ever been to doctors who puncture.
DD: Aww, shit, man. Hell nah. I ain’t gonna let some not-doctor stab me all ova’ ma body. Nuh uh. Fuck that.
DD jumps off the table, throws the robe back at the acupuncturist.
Acupuncturist: I assure you this whole process is safe and simple, sir. There’s no need to worry or panic.
DD: Motherfucker, I ain’t panicking. I’m makin’ a smart decision to say fuck this. I’m fuggin’ outta here.
DD is quickly putting his clothes back on as the acupuncturist watches frustrated.
Acupuncturist: You’re going to need to pay for this session whether you stay or not. I had to forego other clients’ appointments today to work with you, and whether you want to do this right now or not, I need to be paid before you leave.
DD: Yeah. Sen’ me a bill, an’ good luck wit’ tha’.
Americana rises from his seat, gives the acupuncturist a look that says “what can you do, man?”, and hands him a an American $20.
Americana: For your trouble.
Acupuncturist: It’s not even the right kind of money for this country and 20 bucks doesn’t begin to cover the bill.
Americana’s look sours.
Americana: Fine.
Americana grabs the money from the acupuncturist.
Americana: Now you have nothing. Better?
Acupuncturist: No! That’s not better at all!
DD and Americana shrug and exit. The scene fades.
-----FLASHBACK: Just before Clash - Oxford, England - Nov. 12, 2018-----
DD stands at a side door of the arena. He looks up at a clock and gets a little antsy about the time.
DD: Come on, man! Show starts real soon. You gonna miss it an’ make me look like I’m full a’ shit.
There is a distinct knock at the arena door. DD whips the door open and standing outside in a discrete black robe is who we now know to be Americana.
Americana: DANDY!
DD puts his finger up to his lips, encouraging Americana to be quieter.
DD: Shhhh! This is a sneak attack, remember?
Americana replies in a whisper.
Americana: Sorry! I just get excited. I cannot believe I am here in Action Wrestling working for the great Dandy DiVito!
DD smiles and waves for American to follow him.
DD: Let’s talk about plans for tonight.
Americana: Yes. Plans.
DD: I’m gonna fight like usual tonight. No big deal. Just gotta whoop ass on Destroya’ and Bull. No worries there. But Abigail’s gon’ be on the outside tha’ ring, an’ I need you to take her down. Take. Her. Out.
Americana has a smile spread across his face.
Americana: Oh, I know what to do.
Americana slaps his knee, points at his head, and winks at DD. DD smiles.
DD: Yup. You smash ‘er wit’ tha’ knee, an’ make ‘er think twice ‘bout gettin’ involved in anymore a’ my matches. Bury her wit’ tha’ smash. Make ‘er know there’s consequences if she wanna pull that shit come Turmoil.
Americana slaps his knee again.
Americana: Consequences.
-----Just before Turmoil - Wembley Stadium - Nov. 18, 2018-----
Americana is standing in front of a door marked “Dandy DiVito.” As he knocks on the door, Americana opens the door and steps inside the locker room. DD looks up, sees it’s Americana and goes back to taping his wrists again.
DD: D’you get ‘em?
Americana holds his hand up in front of DD’s face, and dangling from his finger is a pair of handcuffs.
Americana: Americana always deliver on promise.
DD: Listen, Meri. This is the most important night of my career. Tonight decides whether I’m a fluke cham-peen or the real fuggin’ deal. I know for goddamn sure I’m a the real thing, but I gotta prove it. I ain’t never had to defend this belt. I can’t be a no-defense champ. I gotta take this big bastard out tonight. I gotta show the whole fuggin’ world who Dandy DiVito really is: the bes’ goddamn cham-peen in Action Fucking Wrestling.
DD finishes off the last bit of taping and looks Americana dead in the eye.
DD: Corey Bull thinks he can dismantle me and hurt me, right?
Americana: Yes, Dandy. That’s what he say.
DD: Well he full’a shit. I ain’t gonna break like no fuckin’ Mel Gibson in Braveheart mothafugger. Look, man, he got one win ova’ me and he’s convinced he’a bad, bad man. Dude’s been here since March an’ ain’t got shit to show for it. I been here all’a, what? A month? Two months? I been here two fuggin’ months, an’ I been US Champ for half tha’ time I been here. Fuggin’ hilarious he thinks he some big shit swingin’ dick danglin’ right over tha top a’ my head. He ain’t got nothin’ on me, an’ he ain’t never gonna.
Americana slips the cuffs into his back pocket, and pats DD on the back.
Americana: Do not worry about Abigail, Dandy. I will take her out of the equation. I will have her all tied up.
DD: I’m countin’ on you here, Meri. She’s the reason he got one ova’ on me a few weeks back, an’ tha’ shit ain’t happenin’ again. You got me, man? He. Can’t. Beat. Me. Again.
Americana: I read you loud and clear, Dandy.
DD: This shit is gonna be Bull’s 9/11: I’ma bring down a big towerin’ mothafucka an’ ain’t no one ever gonna forget.
The scene fades.
The scene opens in a rocuous club. The house lights are low, but the flashing stage lights are whirling around and illuminating the dancers and clients in the nearby rows. Dandy DiVito is seated in a private booth with his friend and manager, Americana, seated in the next booth over. Dancers are giving each man private dances, and they are giving each man everything they have. Americana is loving the attention and incidental contact his dancer occasionally makes with his groin. DD has a dead look on his face and sits awkwardly in that his whole body appears to be rigid. DD maintains a thousand yard stare off into the distance. Americana screams out in his thick Japanese accent in an effort to communicate with DD over the exceptionally loud music.
Americana: Dandy! This is great!
DD maintains his silence and rigid sitting posture.
Americana: DANDY!
Again, DD does not respond. Americana shrugs and chalks it up to the music being too loud. As the song ends, Americana hands his dancer a wad of cash, and she skips away happily after kissing Americana’s cheek. DD remains seated looking like Chris falling into the Sunken Place in “Get Out”. DD’s dancer approaches Americana for payment, and just as before, Americana hands her a wad of bills and she happily walks away. Americana swings around the divider that separates the two seats and finds DD nearly catatonic. Americana immediately slaps DD on the shoulder.
Americana: Did it work?
DD snaps back to attention, looks at Americana and smiles.
DD: Oh, yeah, man. Aw hell yeah!
Americana: Explain? I do not really know what you doing?
DD: I watched that shitty little promo Ol’ Abbie cut last week.
DD insultingly mimics Abigail Voorhees’ intonation and voice.
DD: Your mind is on the woman that walks outside the ring. I have been pulling your strings. Your dick is running the show. Little side boob, a batting of eyelashes, and you forget what you are doing. Bitch.
Americana: But how does that mean you sit in chair with stripper?
DD: Meri, Meri, Meri… You don’t get it?
Americana: No, Dandy. I do not follow.
DD: I had to make sure I could turn off my dick, man. If there’s even an ounce of bingo in my mayonnaise cannon, she might use that weapon for Bull.
Americana: But Americana is here to stop her, Dandy!
DD: I know, Meri. And you did a hell of a job on Ol’ Abbie on Monday. Tha’ knee… beautiful.
Americana smiles proudly.
Americana: Americana smashed her face!
DD: You sure did, buddy.
DD tussles Americana’s hair.
DD: You can keep ‘er in check physically, but the sexually manipulative shit? Tha’s all on me. Ain’t nothin’ anyone but me can do ‘bout tha’.
Americana: I think I understand.
DD: So what’s your plan for the physical side of Turmoil.
Americana: I am still thinking about it, but I may try handcuff me and her together.
DD: Ha! That’s fuckin’ brilliant, Meri.
Americana smiles wide.
Americana: Thank you, Dandy. I thought you might like that plan.
The next song starts playing at the club, and the conversation is drown out entirely. DD gestures to Americana indicating that they should leave the club, and they both head for the door and the scene fades.
-----Acupuncture Clinic - London, England - Nov. 16, 2018-----
The scene opens again in the lobby of an acupuncture clinic. The guys are seated in the waiting room, waiting to be called back to the clinic room. Americana is excited and ready to go, but DD appears to be uneasy and nervous.
DD: Dude, are you sure this is a good idea?
Americana: No fear, Dandy. You are safe. My people use acupuncture for many years. It work to make stress and injury go away. You will be more ready to fight Bull with loose, limber body.
DD: Alright, man. I guess I’ll trust ya’ on this.
Americana: Besides, after the ring you put through your… you know… Well, that is much worse than the small needle acupuncture person use.
DD: I guess, man. I guess.
Americana: Come on, man. You put a big ring through your… dick. Man up for this. It will help. I promise.
DD: Yeah, ok, man. My nerves are prolly just gonna be bitin’ at me ‘til this is ova’.
Americana: I understand. It’s… what is the word? Intimidating…?
DD: Yea, tha’s the word.
Americana: You just have to not be little bitch. Solved problem.
DD gives Americana side eye, and Americana laughs riotously.
Americana: I am just taking a shit on you, Dandy.
DD: Woah, dude. No. The phrase is “giving you shit.” When you “take a shit,” you, uh...
DD mimes the action of something coming from his backside and Americana snickers.
Americana: I will not take a shit on you, Dandy. I will give you shit.
As they chat, a member of the office personnel call out for DD. DD rises from his chair, but Americana remains seated. DD looks at him expectantly.
DD: You comin’?
Americana is startled.
Americana: Oh! You want me to come back with you? I, uh, I can, um, do that, I guess.
DD: I’m gonna be face down in this damn table. I’ma need you to keep an eye on everything for me. I ain’t finna get some creeper asshole pokin’ me an’, uh, pokin’ me.
Americana: Ah, yes. I stand guard.
The two follow the staffer to the back, and they enter the acupuncture room the staffer directs them to. As the staffer hands DD a robe, DD takes it and listens to the directions from the staffer: strip down to underwear, wear the robe, and sit on the table until the acupuncturist comes in. DD follows the directions as Americana takes a seat on a bench in the room. They wait there patiently for a stretch until a knock at the door breaks the silence.
DD: Come in.
The acupuncturist comes through the door.
Acupuncturist: Hello! Go ahead and lay face down on the table there, and I’ll get everything set up.
DD follows the directions as the acupuncturist makes eye contact with Americana and reacts in surprise.
Acupuncturist: Oh we have a guest! Hello to you as well!
Americana: Uh, hi.
The chipper acupuncturist opens a cabinet and retrieves the needle set for DD’s session.
Acupuncturist: So, Mr… DiVito, is it? Ah, yes. Mr. DiVito, I’m going to be putting these needles in your back in spots that will help your body release trapped tension and make your muscles totally calm. If you have any questions or concerns, you can always stop me throughout the procedure and I’ll talk you through what’s happening.
DD: Doc, I fuggin’ hate needles. I’m nervous as shit.
Acupuncturist: First and foremost, I have to establish that I am not a doctor per se. I am a trained professional though, and your nerves are perfectly natural, Mr. DiVito.
DD’s head flies up off the table and he turns his head to eyeball the acupuncturist.
DD: You ain’t no fuggin’ doctor?
Acupuncturist: Uh, no, sir.
DD’s gaze shoots to Americana as DD sits up on the table again.
DD: What the fuck’d you get me into, Meri?!
Americana: Dandy, I did not know. In America, I only ever been to doctors who puncture.
DD: Aww, shit, man. Hell nah. I ain’t gonna let some not-doctor stab me all ova’ ma body. Nuh uh. Fuck that.
DD jumps off the table, throws the robe back at the acupuncturist.
Acupuncturist: I assure you this whole process is safe and simple, sir. There’s no need to worry or panic.
DD: Motherfucker, I ain’t panicking. I’m makin’ a smart decision to say fuck this. I’m fuggin’ outta here.
DD is quickly putting his clothes back on as the acupuncturist watches frustrated.
Acupuncturist: You’re going to need to pay for this session whether you stay or not. I had to forego other clients’ appointments today to work with you, and whether you want to do this right now or not, I need to be paid before you leave.
DD: Yeah. Sen’ me a bill, an’ good luck wit’ tha’.
Americana rises from his seat, gives the acupuncturist a look that says “what can you do, man?”, and hands him a an American $20.
Americana: For your trouble.
Acupuncturist: It’s not even the right kind of money for this country and 20 bucks doesn’t begin to cover the bill.
Americana’s look sours.
Americana: Fine.
Americana grabs the money from the acupuncturist.
Americana: Now you have nothing. Better?
Acupuncturist: No! That’s not better at all!
DD and Americana shrug and exit. The scene fades.
-----FLASHBACK: Just before Clash - Oxford, England - Nov. 12, 2018-----
DD stands at a side door of the arena. He looks up at a clock and gets a little antsy about the time.
DD: Come on, man! Show starts real soon. You gonna miss it an’ make me look like I’m full a’ shit.
There is a distinct knock at the arena door. DD whips the door open and standing outside in a discrete black robe is who we now know to be Americana.
Americana: DANDY!
DD puts his finger up to his lips, encouraging Americana to be quieter.
DD: Shhhh! This is a sneak attack, remember?
Americana replies in a whisper.
Americana: Sorry! I just get excited. I cannot believe I am here in Action Wrestling working for the great Dandy DiVito!
DD smiles and waves for American to follow him.
DD: Let’s talk about plans for tonight.
Americana: Yes. Plans.
DD: I’m gonna fight like usual tonight. No big deal. Just gotta whoop ass on Destroya’ and Bull. No worries there. But Abigail’s gon’ be on the outside tha’ ring, an’ I need you to take her down. Take. Her. Out.
Americana has a smile spread across his face.
Americana: Oh, I know what to do.
Americana slaps his knee, points at his head, and winks at DD. DD smiles.
DD: Yup. You smash ‘er wit’ tha’ knee, an’ make ‘er think twice ‘bout gettin’ involved in anymore a’ my matches. Bury her wit’ tha’ smash. Make ‘er know there’s consequences if she wanna pull that shit come Turmoil.
Americana slaps his knee again.
Americana: Consequences.
-----Just before Turmoil - Wembley Stadium - Nov. 18, 2018-----
Americana is standing in front of a door marked “Dandy DiVito.” As he knocks on the door, Americana opens the door and steps inside the locker room. DD looks up, sees it’s Americana and goes back to taping his wrists again.
DD: D’you get ‘em?
Americana holds his hand up in front of DD’s face, and dangling from his finger is a pair of handcuffs.
Americana: Americana always deliver on promise.
DD: Listen, Meri. This is the most important night of my career. Tonight decides whether I’m a fluke cham-peen or the real fuggin’ deal. I know for goddamn sure I’m a the real thing, but I gotta prove it. I ain’t never had to defend this belt. I can’t be a no-defense champ. I gotta take this big bastard out tonight. I gotta show the whole fuggin’ world who Dandy DiVito really is: the bes’ goddamn cham-peen in Action Fucking Wrestling.
DD finishes off the last bit of taping and looks Americana dead in the eye.
DD: Corey Bull thinks he can dismantle me and hurt me, right?
Americana: Yes, Dandy. That’s what he say.
DD: Well he full’a shit. I ain’t gonna break like no fuckin’ Mel Gibson in Braveheart mothafugger. Look, man, he got one win ova’ me and he’s convinced he’a bad, bad man. Dude’s been here since March an’ ain’t got shit to show for it. I been here all’a, what? A month? Two months? I been here two fuggin’ months, an’ I been US Champ for half tha’ time I been here. Fuggin’ hilarious he thinks he some big shit swingin’ dick danglin’ right over tha top a’ my head. He ain’t got nothin’ on me, an’ he ain’t never gonna.
Americana slips the cuffs into his back pocket, and pats DD on the back.
Americana: Do not worry about Abigail, Dandy. I will take her out of the equation. I will have her all tied up.
DD: I’m countin’ on you here, Meri. She’s the reason he got one ova’ on me a few weeks back, an’ tha’ shit ain’t happenin’ again. You got me, man? He. Can’t. Beat. Me. Again.
Americana: I read you loud and clear, Dandy.
DD: This shit is gonna be Bull’s 9/11: I’ma bring down a big towerin’ mothafucka an’ ain’t no one ever gonna forget.
The scene fades.