Post by Mack O'Connor on Dec 17, 2020 5:06:40 GMT -6
Thursday
December 17
Kansas City International Airport.
The automatic doors slide open in front of the driveway for arrivals. Sporting jeans, a black shirt, a black peacoat, and a black tweed cap, Mack O’Connor steps through the doors. He breathes through a black and green bandana that covers his mouth and nose, and he has a duffel bag hanging on his shoulder. He glances at his phone: His Lyft driver will arrive in two minutes.
He suddenly gets a text message from a “Makenna Cullen”. He looks at its contents:
Hey, I saw you on TV. Just checking in and seeing how you’re doing. Please talk to me.
He looks up from his phone, ignoring the text. He glances around, finding the correct route to the proper pick-up area.
----------
Some minutes later, Mack steps into the back of his Lyft ride. He shuts the door.
Mack?
Mack smiles.
You recognized me?
Excuse me?
Sorry, its just funny to me you can recognize me through my mask.
Sorry, I was just verifying the name that came up on my app.
Mack pauses.
Oh… Yeah, of course.
Looks like I’m taking you to…
My hotel. I’m staying here through the weekend.
The driver shrugs.
Sure.
Mack leans back in his seat. He seems a bit unsatisfied by the interaction.
Also, I don’t care if you want to take your mask off. Its not a big deal to me.
Oh, nice.
Mack reaches back and unties his bandana, sliding it off his face. He sees the driver look back at him through the rearview mirror.
I’m assuming you recognize me now.
Once again, the driver shrugs.
Have I driven you before?
Well… No… I’m a professional wrestler.
The driver perks up.
Really? I started watching wrestling this past year. Who do you fight for?
Mack smiles.
I’m in GCWA.
I love GCWA! My friend actually managed to book one of the suites at the arena this weekend, so I get to see the Righteous Rumble in person!
Nice.
I know, right? I can’t believe I’m going to get to see James Raven fight. Its one thing to see it on TV. But in person? I can’t wait.
Yeah…
Shame what happened with Lissie Hope. I was really excited to see that. But hey, at least we have something this weekend, right?
Yeah. I know. I’m gonna be there.
Oh, that’s right! Sorry, forgot you mentioned that. You’re fighting in the rumble?
Um… No, I’m not.
Oh… Okay. Are you in one of the dark matches before the show?
Mack lets out a sigh.
No.
But you’re competing?
Mack thinks about what to say for a moment.
I’m actually fighting James Raven.
The driver tilts his head, looking into the rearview mirror.
In the main event?
Mack slowly nods, biting his lip.
James Raven James Raven? For the World Title?
Yep. That’s the one.
The driver examines Mack’s face through the rearview mirror.
That can’t be right.
Well, it is.
No way. I saw who Raven is fighting.
I bet he looks like me.
He has better eyebrows than you.
…the fuck…
Yeah, the eyebrows aren’t right. James Raven is fighting Logan Paul.
Mack blinks his eyes in disbelief.
Wait… I… No. No, he’s not fighting Logan Paul.
Agree to disagree.
No, you’re wrong. I’m fighting Raven this Sunday.
What was your name again?
I’m Mack O’Connor.
It does sound familiar.
It should. I was the GCWA World Champion for like six months. I just did a radio show the other night.
That can’t be it. Puffer did a radio show, but not you. I think I remember you retiring from another fed.
I never retired.
Were you ever in EMF?
Mack opened his mouth, shocked and ready to yell at the driver. But he took another breath, and he simply tied the bandana around his neck to cover his mouth and nose again.
The driver noticed.
You don’t have to do that.
It’s okay.
Really, you don’t have to.
I suddenly don’t want to breathe the air in this car anymore.
Mack pulled out his pack of smokes, sliding a single cigarette out. He quickly raised the cigarette and the lighter to his lips… And its blocked by the mask.
Mack simply drops the cigarette and stares out the window.
I hate it here.
----------
The car pulls up to a hotel. Mack immediately gets out and slams the door behind him. He pulls his bandana down under his chin, and he swiftly pulls up a cigarette and lights up. He inhales deeply, taking a long drag.
Fuckin’ unbelievable…
Mack closes his eyes, taking another long drag from the cigarette. He leans his head back in relaxation, slowly exhaling. He slowly opens his eyes...
…and sees the name of the hotel. It’s a Holiday Inn.
What… A fuckin… A fuckin Holiday Inn?
Mack reaches for his cell phone to call someone, but quickly realizes there is no one to call. He fired his agent, Treat Cassidy, earlier this year. The Accelerator only promised him accommodations, but he never said anything specific about how or where.
And of course, there was nothing inherently wrong with the Holiday Inn. Mack simply expected more.
Mack stared at the Holiday Inn sign, taking an even longer drag from his cigarette. He pulled his phone out and opened up his text messages. He responded to the text he received at the airport.
Fine lets talk
----------
Mack paced in his hotel room, occasionally sipping on a bottle of Jameson. He agreed to answer a call from his former therapist, Makenna Cullen. And of course, now she was taking forever to actually make the call.
He reached for his phone, finished with waiting and deciding to call her instead. As he unlocked it, the phone began to ring. He immediately answered, putting it on speaker and setting it on the coffee table.
Hey.
Hey there.
How are you?
Living. Yourself?
Same.
They sit in silence for a few moments. Mack’s history with his woman was complicated, and they both seemed to be quietly reflecting on it in that moment.
How do you feel?
I’m fine.
Are you though?
Of course.
I don’t think you’d agree to talk to me if everything was fine.
So you think you’re fuckin’ clever.
I’m simply pointing out the obvious.
They sat in silence another moment as Mack contemplated his next words.
Did you see his statement?
Which?
You know which one.
I saw it.
And?
Mack didn’t respond right away.
It was on camera.
Are you sure?
Well, I am aware of it, so it must have been. How else can we address what he said?
I guess you’re right.
Well… He said that pretty much no one is concerned about facing you.
That’s ridiculous.
You’ve been out of the game for a while. A lot of these people probably never heard of you.
Of course they have! Several of them mentioned me in statements.
Several… Out of thirty.
Hey, I thought you wanted to talk to me to support me.
I am. I’m trying to tell you to forget them. You’ve always succeeded when you simply did your own thing. You’ve always been at your best when you blacked out everything else around you. So do that now.
Mack quietly nods. He looks at his bottle of Jameson.
So you want me to black out.
That’s not what I said.
I know, I’m kidding. Sorry.
Thank God. I’m glad you explained it, otherwise some people wouldn’t know that you were joking about serious mental health issues.
Mack wipes a small tear from his eye.
I know. I get that a lot.
----------
Mack stares at himself in the closet mirror. He takes a big swig of the Jameson.
You can do this Mack. It’s time.
Another swig of Jameson.
Monologue time…
He closes his eyes. Then opens them again, staring into the abyss.
James Raven. I respect you. You are a proven fighter and you wouldn’t be where you are without hard work and a dedication to your craft of combat.
But, your flair for the dramatic overpowers your ability to obtain logical thoughts.
Your analogy to me being a pawn started as an accurate observation. Then it swerved drastically off course. Yes, the Accelerator got me out of the joint by revealing a stipulation in the contract I signed earlier this year. So in a sense, I am beholden to him. I am beholden to him, and he is using me in his fight against his own family. You are completely right.
So yeah, we’re not the same. When a guy does me a favor, whether or not he’s using me, I’m going to repay that favor. You call it being a pawn. I call it having honor. And even if I was a pawn, you must have never played chess. A chess player doesn’t just sacrifice his pawns, but he plans on getting pawns across the board.
And on a chess board, the king is the objective. You, the self-proclaimed king, are the objective. No argument. But what you fail to remember is that the king is the most pathetic piece on the board. He can move in any direction, but in a mostly harmless way. In fact, smart chess players spend their time protecting the king from danger. Is Noah Jackson your knight? Is Jackson Hart your bishop? Is Shawn Warstein your rook? Is Betsy your queen? I may be a lone pawn making his way across the board, but I am crossing that board. But you, the king, are hiding in the back row behind your own pawns.
The way people easily forget about me does sting. No shame in admitting it. But that doesn’t change what I’ve accomplished. You and every other predictable dolt say the same shit: “Mack was a lazy champion.” “He did the bare minimum.” “He didn’t work unless he had to.” What you fail to remember is simple: A lazy champion, who didn’t work unless he had to, did exactly what was asked of him. When the Barrows called me to fight, I fought. When the company needed me to achieve a task, I achieved it. They lined up some of the best GCWA fighters that ever stepped into that ring, and I defeated them. You may find pride in defeating chumps and being given the belt without a fight, but I don’t. I may have been lazy, but I beat the best to hold that belt. You were literally handed it. Your words are full of irony and you don’t even see it.
As far as my loss to Lissie Hope being a crime against humanity? No argument there. We all have our lows.
A pawn. A pawn to the Accelerator. Sure. But when that pawn makes his way across the board, he becomes something better. He becomes something better. The knights, rooks, and bishops started in their positions of privilege and authority. When the queen is joined with the king, she is given her position. Even the king doesn’t have to work to be a king: He’s simply born to it. The pawn, however, fights his way across the board. Sure, you can view me as being his pawn now… The pawn is so easily waved off as nothing. But then that pawn makes his way past the knight. He dodges the bishop. He catches the rook by surprise. Even the queen doesn’t see the pawn coming. And the king just hides. Then that pawn reaches the far end of the board. That pawn evolves into a threat, a threat stronger than the king he previously served.
You’re right when you say we’re not alike. We absolutely aren’t. Lazy or not, I fought my way to the top. I put in the hours. I’ve been to hell and back. You’re right when you say I’m the pawn on the board. I fought way across, and I didn’t take it for granite when I evolved into something more. And you’re right: You’re the king. The king who hides behind those around him. The one who depends on everyone else to keep him safe. A powerful man, no doubt. But the king doesn’t know what the pawn has gone through. The king looks down on the pawn, not understanding the journey across the board.
The people do recognize the king when they see one. The king who inherited his throne instead of earning it, just like you were handed the championship belt.
The main difference between a pawn and king? Everything is in the king’s favor, not the pawn’s. And the pawn knows this. The pawn is ready to lose, but he’s still willing to fight. And I’m willing to fight, even if I do lose. Because, like the pawn, I know that at least I have a chance by pushing forward. The king is comfortable, while the pawn fights. The king relaxes, while the pawn takes the blows. The king has pretty skin, while the pawn is riddled with scars.
You are right. I'm the hero, you're the tyrant. I'm the crusader, you're the dictator. I’m the pawn, you’re the king.
God save the king.
Mack looks down: A purple bandana sits on his dresser. He looks at it carefully, reading the label:
Purple VIP
God dammit.
