Post by Dandy DiVito on Feb 3, 2019 23:48:36 GMT -5
Everybody's high on consolation
Everybody's trying to tell me what's right for me
My daddy tried to bore me with a sermon
But it's plain to see that they can't comfort me
Sorry Charlie for the imposition
I think I've got it, got the strength to carry on
I need a drink and a quick decision
Now it's up to me, ooh what will be
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
Everybody's trying to tell me what's right for me
My daddy tried to bore me with a sermon
But it's plain to see that they can't comfort me
Sorry Charlie for the imposition
I think I've got it, got the strength to carry on
I need a drink and a quick decision
Now it's up to me, ooh what will be
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
The scene opens in Dandy DiVito’s dingy flop house. The curtains are pulled tightly, and in the darkness, we hear the sniffles and sobs of someone crying loudly. In the background, a landline phone rings and rings and rings until it’s eventually picked up by an old-school answering machine. The machine message sounds loudly in the voice of Dandy DiVito.
Answering Machine Message: You reached Action Wrestlin’s United State Cham-peen, Dandy Fuggin’ DiVito, and I ain’t here righ’ now. Prolly out gettin’ in trouble ‘r whoopin’ some ass. Ya can leave a message an’ I migh’ return it but I prolly won’.
The machine beeps loudly and a strong, clear, articulate male voice announces itself from the speaker.
Caller via Answering Machine: Ugh. You know how badly I want you to change that message, son. Please do that today. Anyway… this is your father. I heard from some of the help that you had a difficult weekend. I hope that might convince you to give up this wrestling shit and buckle down for a real job. This Dandy character isn’t the son I ra...
The machine beeps and cuts off Mr. DiVito’s message. The phone rings again until the machine picks it up.
Answering Machine Message: You reached Action Wrestlin’s United State Cham-peen, Dandy Fuggin’ DiVito, and I ain’t here righ’ now. Prolly out gettin’ in trouble ‘r whoopin’ some ass. Ya can leave a message an’ I migh’ return it but I prolly won’.
Mr. DiVito via Answering Machine: I hate that message more than you’ll ever know, son, but I got cut off before. Look, I’m coming to your, uh, house, and I’m bringing you home. Your mother misses you, and I’m tired of you embarrassing our family name with this nonsense. This Dandy garbage is an insult to the DiVito family, Winston. You were raised better th…
The machine beeps and yet again cuts off Mr. DiVito’s message. When it starts ringing again, we hear DD pick up the phone and hang up on the call. Once the call is disconnected, DD leaves the line engaged and prevents further calls. The house is fairly serene in the absence of the persistent noise from the phone and answering machine.
A knock at the door breaks the serenity of the darkened house. DD refuses to answer the door, so the knocking persists until DD lashes out at the door.
DD: GO AWAY, DAD! I AIN’T NO LI’L KID YOU CAN BOSS ‘ROUN’ NO MO’!
Through the door, DD hears the person outside begin to fumble with keys.
DD: WHEN THE FUCK’D YOU GET KEYS TA MA HOUSE, OL’ MAN?!
DD flips a table lamp by the couch and reveals that he has been cocooned on the couch for what appears to be several hours if not a few days. He angrily rises from his seated position and grabs a baseball bat he has resting next to the couch. DD cocks the bat back waiting for his father to open the door, and when the door cracks, the exceptionally bright daylight penetrates every crevice of the beaten down living room. DD is rendered temporarily blinded by the overwhelming amount of natural light, so he begins wildly swinging the bat toward the door. The bat makes a solid contact with the person entering DD’s abode and the person coming through the door lets out a wail. DD swings again, and the bat makes another solid contact with someone. The wailing turns to a groan as the person coming through the door drops to the floor. DD flips a light switch and reacts with a sad gasp.
DD: Ah, fuck. Meri, is tha’ you?!
DD rushes to Americana’s side to render aid.
DD: Shit, man. I thought you was somebody else.
Americana is down on the ground transitioning between clutching his head and his arm while groaning in pain.
Americana: You swing like madman! Who you think would come through that door?
DD: I thought… I thought you were gonna be ma dad.
Americana laughs and then winces in pain.
DD: Wha’s funny ‘bout that?!
Americana: Dandy think Americana his daddy.
DD smirks as Americana laughs and groans.
DD: You ok, man?
Americana: You got me in head, and my arm broke. Son, I very disappointed in you. Ha!
DD: Fuck, now I’m not sure you ain’ ma dad.
Americana starts to work his way up to his feet, his right arm motionlessly tucked up to his chest and his head starting to bleed down from his hair onto his face.
DD: I gotchu in the fuggin’ head?! Ah, goddamn it, man. You lucky I didn’ kill you.
DD grabs a rag from from the table by the door and uses it to begin applying pressure to Americana’s head wound. Americana attempts to move his arm but just lets out a pained howl.
Americana: Oh shit! Ow! Ow! Ahh! I think I need doctor. I need hospital.
DD: Ah, fuck, man. Shit. Goddamn, I’m sorry, Meri.
Get up in the morning look in the mirror
I'm worn as her toothbrush hanging in the stand
My face ain't looking any younger
Now I can see love's taken her toll on me
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
I'm worn as her toothbrush hanging in the stand
My face ain't looking any younger
Now I can see love's taken her toll on me
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
The scene opens again outside of a hospital near DD’s house. DD urgently drives his car up to the area in front of the ER and slams on the brakes. DD flies out of his side of the driver’s door and runs around to the back passenger door. DD throws open the passenger door and reaches in to grab Americana from the car. As DD looks into the car, he sees that Americana has faded out of consciousness, and DD becomes panicked and runs toward the hospital doors. Once inside, he starts screaming for help until a doctor races toward him.
DD: Help! Help! Ma frien’ ain’ conscious! He got hit in tha head.
Doctor: What happened?
DD: I thought he was breakin’ in ta ma house, an’ I ended up hittin’ ‘im wit’ a bat.
Doctor: A direct blow to the head?!
DD: I t’ink so. It was dark. I dunno fo’ sure. I t’ink ‘is arm is broke, too!
Doctor: So you hit him with a bat in the arm and the head?
DD: Sure looks like it.
Doctor: Ok, I’ll get a gurney, and we’ll get him in a CT scan immediately. If he’s bleeding internally, he will need emergency surgery.
DD: Goddamn, doctor. He gonna survive?
Doctor: I can’t answer that at this point, sir. I’d suggest you offer up any prayers you have in mind if religion is your thing and cross your fingers if it’s not.
The doctor runs back into the building to collect a small crew to get Americana inside of the hospital. The hospital staff quickly returns with a gurney and carefully but swiftly load Americana onto the gurney as DD heads back to the driver’s door to move his car out of the way of the ER entrance. After parking, DD runs back for the hospital doors and catches up with the crew wheeling Americana to his CT scan. The crew exchanges frantic medical jargon as they rush Americana to the CT, and DD butts in.
Doctor: He appears to have a linear skull fracture. I’m afraid he may have a intracranial hematoma as well.
DD: Wha’s tha’ mean?
The doctor turns to see DD following the gurney.
Doctor: Sir, you’re going to need to stay in the waiting room. I’ll come find you as soon as we have any information.
DD: But I gotta kno…
Doctor: No. Sir, you need to wait in the waiting room. If you follow from here, you are making our job of helping your friend more difficult and reducing the likelihood that we will be able to help him. Please let my team work, and wait for us in the waiting room.
DD doubles back to sit and wait for an update from the doctors.
DD: I can’t go losin’ my cham-peenship an’ Meri in one fuggin’ week. I ain’ gonna have nothin’ lef’ if he gone.
DD exists quietly in the waiting room, hanging his head in his hands, waiting on bated breath.
Think I'll spend eternity in the city
Let the carbon and monoxide choke my thoughts away
And pretty bodies help dissolve the memories
But they can never be what she was to me
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
Let the carbon and monoxide choke my thoughts away
And pretty bodies help dissolve the memories
But they can never be what she was to me
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Pay the devil to replace her
She's gone, what went wrong
The scene opens again a few hours later. DD opens the front door of his house. He walks into the living room, and begins opening curtains to let daylight into the house. As he rips open the curtains, a booming voice from the dining room startles DD.
Mr. DiVito: Hello, Winston.
DD goes swiftly from being spooked to angry.
DD: I tol’ you ova’ an’ ova’ tha’ I ain’ Winston, Ol’ Man.
Mr. DiVito: Did I miss some sort of development?
DD: Wha’?
Mr. DiVito: The last time I saw you, you were speaking English. I honestly have no idea what language is lazily falling out of your mouth right now.
DD: EAT. SHIT. Is that English enough fo’ ya, ya mean ol’ bastard?
Mr. DiVito: When are you coming home, Winston?
DD: Dandy.
Mr. DiVito: Winston.
DD: Get the fuck outta my house.
Mr. DiVito: That’s not going to happen, son.
DD: Alrigh’, man. Alrigh’. So you wan’ me ta tell the cops it’s breakin’ an’ enterin’ or you wan’ leave?
Mr. DiVito: I have keys. I let myself in when I feared for your health and safety. That’s no crime, son… You’d know that if you went to law school like I told you to.
DD: Man, fuck law school, an’ fuck you. Wha’chu doin’ here anyway? Why can’t you get it through yo’ thick ass skull tha’ I ain’ like you, tha’ I ain’ gonna do whatchu wan’ me ta do? This is MY LIFE, an’ ya didn’ wan’ nothin’ ta do wit’ it until I decided ta live it my way. I don’ give a single ounce of one fat shit ‘bout wha’ you wan’ fo’ me. I don’ need yo’ money no mo’. I don’ need you no mo’, ol’ man.
Mr. DiVito: Well, you’re living off the trust fund I established for you, so you do need me, Winston. I’ll remind you, I’m your goddamn father, and you will do as I goddamn say.
DD: Yo, dude, I ain’t livin’ on yo’ trus’fund. I got bank all on my own now.
Mr. DiVito: Wrestling money?
DD: Yeah. Some a’ it is wrestlin’ money. Some a’ it comes from ma music.
Mr. DiVito: That horrendous bullshit is making you money?!
DD: Yeah. I figured it out. Las’ week Kidsgrove spent some time on Youtube shittin’ on ma work, an’ a whole fuck ton’a people checked ma shit out online. Say what you wan’ ‘bout Ol’ Kiddy Kat, tha mothafucka’s got some sway on da internet. His people been checkin’ ma shit out, an’ I’m all tha richer fo’ it.
Mr. DiVito: And your Asian man friend? How is he making money?
DD: Ain’t none a’ yo’ business. He, uh, he gon’ be laid up fo’ a while anyway, so disability gonna take care’a him fo’ a bit.
Mr. DiVito: What happened? Did he get injured in a match?
DD: Nah. I thought he was you, an’ I hit ‘im in tha head wit’ a bat.
Mr. DiVito: Do you have enough money to fend off his inevitable lawsuit?
DD: Meri ain’ gon’ sue me, ya knob.
Mr. DiVito: When there’s money on the line, trust no one, son. This... Meri, is it?... will turn on you the second it’s about his bottom line. Look, I’m going to give you just enough rope to hang yourself, son. You have one month and I’m checking back in. If I’m not satisfied with your life and your choices, I’m putting a stop to your trust fund, and while you might understand why that would be so overwhelmingly bad for you right now, you will once you lose it. In the meantime, stop shaming the family name, and clean yourself up. DiVito’s are better than this. DiVito’s aren’t pieces of shit.
DD stares his father down as the scene fades.
She's gone, oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone (she's gone)
I can't believe that she's gone, oh I
I'd pay the devil to replace her
She's gone oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone (she's gone)
I can't believe that she's gone, oh I
I'd pay the devil to replace her
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone
Better learn how to face it
She's gone (she's gone)
I can't believe that she's gone, oh I
I'd pay the devil to replace her
She's gone oh I, oh I'd
Better learn how to face it
She's gone (she's gone)
I can't believe that she's gone, oh I
I'd pay the devil to replace her
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone (she's gone)
She's gone
Man, these mothafuckas at tha top ain’t got no chill at all. I’m experiencin’ loss here. I’m fuggin’ greivin’, and they put my ass in a fuckin’ 3-on-3?! I los’ tha only thing tha’ meant anythin’ to me an’ Meri in da hospital, an’ they still got me battlin’ three fuggin’ people wit’ two full on anchors ‘roun’ ma neck in Rose an’ Ace. Tha shit gets me down righ’ pissed off. God have mercy on tha mothafuckas ‘cross that ring from me come Monday.
Claire. Again? Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck thissssssssssssssss! How many goddamn times I gotta whoop that ass before y’all stop bookin’ her ta get her asswhooped by Dandy DiVito? I mean, shit. Did she bang Digger’s dad or run ova’ Tort’s fuggin’ cat? I figga’ she musta really pissed in somebody’s fuggin’ Cheerios if they keep bookin’ her ta face off agains’ me. Wha’s this gonna be, her fourth loss from me? Ain’t that some shit? Claire, here’s my advice: just don’ show up. I know you don’ like Sammy any, an’ I don’ know no one who even wan’s ta be in tha same room as Ultimate Destroya, so just don’ show up. Let ‘em swing in the breeze. It’s tha only way ya end up savin’ face come Monday.
Ultimate Destroyer. I t’ink UD’s tha only person on the Action Wrestlin’ roster who I beat tha piss outta as often as I beat on Claire, an’ I feel a li’l bad ‘bout it. Dude spends his time jus’ tryin’ to count ta twenty wit’out usin’ his toes, pettin’ da rabbits a bit too hard, an’ beggin’ momma ta wake up, an’ I’m out here readyin’ myself ta knock his fuggin’ teeth down his fuggin’ throat. Tha’ prolly ain’t right, ya know? Makin’ detailed plans fo’ how to beat up a retarded fella? If nothin’ else already punched ma ticket ta hell, tha’ll prolly be tha t’ing tha’ does it. I’ma burn fo’eva ‘cause I had ta punch a slow guy in tha dick. So be it, I guess.
Sam Kidsgrove. This motherfucker... He has tha nerve ta steal MY CHAM-PEENSHIP an’ go ‘roun’ talkin’ like he earned it?! I’ma get her back, Kiddypool. We gonna make yo’ nex’ big film ‘bout tha’ shit, too. You, a-list good looks an’ d-lis’ talent. Me, a-lis’ ass kickin’ skills an’ a-lis’ resume. Hos’ tha Oscars. Hos’ tha Rassies. Hos’ tha fuggin’ Kids Choice or Nickelodeon awards fo’ all I give a fuck. Tha only t’ing yo’ definitely gon’ win is my boot in yo’ ass. I know tha ‘beetus an’ Affleck’s penis got yo ass all sorts a’ ready fo’ stiff shots in the ass, but this gon’ be diff’rnt, Samsgrove. I’ma get ma princess back, an’ I’ll be goddamned if I’ma roll ova’ an’ jus’ let you take ma girl from me wit’out a fight.