Post by E.W Montgomery on Nov 19, 2020 23:31:26 GMT -6
Fade in from black.
It’s just Earl Wayne Montgomery sitting backwards in a chair William Riker from Star Trek: The Next Generation would do. The room is darkened around him and only a single lightbulb hanging just in front of where he is sitting provides any light what-so-ever. Oh, that and the lit end of his cigarillo which flames up as he takes a massive drag, however E.W doesn’t take the cigarillo out he just lets the smoke pour from his half opened lips and nostrils naturally. In both of his massive fists E.W holds an old issue of Pro Wrestling magazine which has a much, much longer younger looking photo of himself on the cover. The headline reads ‘Annual Top 100’ across the front in bright white letters.
“Darkness Falls. Live on pay per view. Live from Arkansas, my home state. It’s not all the time that you get a chance to come home and wrestle in front of those that cheered you on thirty years ago on the football field. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever wrestled in front of Razorback nation. I’m looking forward to becoming a conquering hero in my own backyard!
What a long ride it has been. What a crazy past it has been. A collision of the present and the past. The past…”
E.W trails off a bit as he flips through some of the pages of the old looking magazine between his fingertips. A trail of smoke pours from his lips and nose as he just casually puffs on that cigarillo of his. However, we’re not about to travel to a flashback as E.W continues talking about the past.
“The past. Some live in it, some refuse to accept it and others? Well, some are just haunted by it. Haunted… nah, that’s not the word I’d use. When I think of my past, I prefer a word that better describes what my past means to me. How about tortured? Yeah, I like the sound of that. Some are just tortured by their past.
According to this issue of Pro Wrestling magazine, I was going to be the King Kong of professional wrestling for years to come. Get a load of this quote, ‘Montgomery or as his friends call him, Monty, is headed for great things in the Southwest territories. A former All-American football player, Monty is poised to take the professional world by storm in 1989 and beyond.’ Ain’t that cute. Nineteen eighty-nine? Fuck that’s a long time ago.”
E.W grabs the cigarillo out of his mouth allowing him to pour the smoke from his lungs fully as he checks out the cover of the magazine one more time with a slight smile. You know, given the age of that magazine and the condition it is in it might be worth some money especially to a collector. ‘Oh, shit what’s E.W doing?’ is what that collector is now thinking as E.W takes the lighter from his pocket and begins to set fire to the magazine.
“Yeah, I said tortured. Tortured because it burns me to the very core of my soul that I never took the professional world by storm. Sure… sure, I won some regional titles during the nineteen-nineties, the ones where they call you world champion but you only end up ever traveling to Sarasota to defend the title. Sure, I had my shots in the nineteen-nineties to make the leap from the smaller time promotions to big ones, passed them up because I wanted to march through multiple promotions as if my name was Alexander the Great.
And I did... I did.
I fought nightly in some of the most ruthless matches designed to take years off of a person’s life just for the equally ruthless promoters to refuse giving payouts. And I lived that, I lived with that reality from small town to small town. But with each passing year I fell further and further away from the can’t miss All-American and fell further towards becoming a sideshow freak in the hardcore carnvial of wrestling. Until one day, I finally had enough. Until one day, I looked down at the scars on my body, on my forehead, upon my soul and realized I was never destined to be the storm that took professional wrestling.
That’s my past, that’s the path that my career took for twenty plus years and that’s what tortures me on a daily basis. Why? Because I traveled up and down the highways of America, flew to Japan when I could and even wrestled at an Airforce base in Germany. I missed birthdays, anniversaries, graduations and just about everything else a father or husband could in life. Been through three wives, and my only true friend in the world is a scummy lawyer who I think got his degree at night school. I have all these scars on my body, but barely anybody even knows who the hell I am. And my bank account? Shit. That’s the worst part about it all. That’s why.
Oh, and nobody ever fucking called me Monty.”
The magazine burns and E.W is forced to toss it down to the ground in front of him, his crossed eyes remain fixated on the flame that burns before him. He takes another long drag from his cigarillo before deciding on tossing that onto the burning pile. Hey, bonfire!
“Never liked that damn magazine anyway, top one hundred wrestlers? Who gives a shit about something like that? Put them in front of me for a night and I’ll show you how they really rate in a fight. You can be the best at anything for a minute and the next minute someone’s giving you twenty bucks to rip another person’s face off with a cheese grater. Or was it a lemon zester? I can’t remember, either way that guy's face looked like shit afterwards. What I’m trying to say is that I’m tired of being tortured by my past. I get it, I’m fifty fucking years old and still wearing tights and beating people up for money. I accept that, but what I want now is the damn respect of the wrestling world. I’m looking to become that storm that takes professional wrestling... like old man fucking winter.
I’m going to carve out my respect. Outcast took his shot, had the opportunity to blind me and put me out of this match when he bashed me in the skull with his title belt. But he didn’t, and now I’m going to have to show him the error of his way. I will take my damn respect from him. So next time, he does something he’ll do it the proper way! Between you and me, I would not have stopped with one bash with the title belt Outcast! Think some security guards would have stopped me? I would have hit you until I cracked the damn belt or until my arms got tired of swinging!
Because that’s how business is done!”
The mighty Arkansas Razorback calms himself down from all the yelling, from the look on his eyes the fire on the floor has died off as there is no longer a reflection of the flame. With both of his massive paws, E.W rubs his face and sides of his head. He holds up his hand indicating to give him one more second as if a voice were talking to him or waiting for an answer.
“Gold is gold. I’m not too proud to say that, honestly. Television title, Unified X-Division title, no matter. All I care is that I’m walking into this match without any of that gold and I’ve a perfect opportunity here to walk away with something, because there’s always some small measure of respect that comes with holding some of that gold. Now, there is no secret that Outcast and myself are going to be after each other like a couple of wild dogs, but don’t think I’m not going to be well aware of the third man in the match.
Wrigley’s told me all about you, Enforcer. While he might not seem like it, that’s a man with a wealth of knowledge and experience. And you Enforcer, you’ve experienced that knowledge first hand… haven’t you, kid? Hell, from what Wrigley's told me, I should be glad I’m facing you at Darkness Falls and not your wife. But don’t you worry buddy, I’ve got plenty in the tank to take on the both of you just in case she decides to jump into the ring.
You see these eyes?”
E.W’s massive finger points to his face. E.W leans really close into the camera which really shows off the fact that he’s more walleyed than Biggie Smalls. One eye is looking straight forward, while the other eye has wandered off a bit looking at something interesting going on off camera.
“Outcast. Enforcer. I’m going to let you in on a little secret about these eyes. To you, to the fans, and to the rest of the world they may look as if one is trying to make and escape out the side escape hatch while the other has fallen asleep. But in reality, these eyes here give me an advantage over both of you. Because this left eye can keep its focus on one of you sons of bitches, while this right eye can keep track of the other. You can say that I was born for this sort of match.
A match that could bring me some of that damn respect I deserve. A match that in fact could end the torment of the past that could have been. Y’know they say that those who don’t learn from their history are doomed to repeat it. I say, it’s time the past dies in flames once and for all. And then let the darkness fall upon it never to be looked upon ever again.”
From the chair, E.W stands up and stares into the camera in silence for a couple of moments before shutting off the dangling lightbulb causing darkness to fall.