View Full Version : Mike Randalls vs. Timmy Windham

01-08-06, 12:29 AM
Think there'll be a bottle to the back of the head in this one?

01-10-06, 09:18 PM
FADEIN: ’THE WOLF’ MIKE RANDALLS sitting idly on a boat in Montego Bay. The sun is setting as RANDALLS overlooks the water, expressionless...

RANDALLS: “Ten years gone, the world has moved on, but it is small enough for our paths to meet once more. It doesn’t matter that we’re wrestlers, to deny the irony would be false, so I’ll be honest to a man living nothing more than a lie...Timmy Windham, you will stand across the ring from me in Montego Bay for a very specific reason.”

RANDALLS’ eyes make contact with the camera, The Wolf’s way of letting Timmy know this moment means he will be watching...

“Ten years gone from getting my initiation into the schemes and hiearchy of this organization. An organization I’ve bled for from the heart, out of greed, lustingly in vengeance, desperate in honor and many times with them prodding my unstable...shall we say nature? Not that your part helped any, Muppet Kid. To yourself, maybe to the world...it was a laugh.”

A small sliver of a smirk forms at The Wolf’s lips...

“A bungee cord.”

The smirk fades, the emerald eyes widening for just a moment...

“Believe me, that night I learned just how much of a game it was out there. And I do not deny that I played it like a violin, netting myself more than just a few subtle trophies over those years...”

“Of course...that’s when a Unified Title and golden locks of hair meant a little more to men in this company. History may be lost on everyone, but not us Timmy. I know you’re crazy, but I know I can talk to you crazy to crazy all the same. I lived a lie for seven years, you’re living one longer. Its all good, I get it...I’m supposed to believe you’re so ****ing nuts you don’t want to give it up...”

RANDALLS looks out across the bay, nodding in some sort of solemn understanding.

“...I’ll make you ****ing crazy, Timmy. I’ll do something so ****ing damaging to your soul that you won’t sleep for thirteen months without my eyes haunting your dreams. Of course... CSWA fans want to see me ****ing tear your heart out, and if that’s what I’m wanted to do...if that’s what you want to do...hell, doesn’t sound like there’s really a choice once we’re in that ring, does it?”

RANDALLS stops nodding, shrugs and looks at a couple fishermen bringing in a net...

“Not that I want to, because I do empathize with you. Living the lie, getting sucked into believing it yourself – its addicting. Mid-20's, Lonely at night white male, a product of the scum of an earlier generation, psychologically FUBAR'd. Abused somewhere, somehow...Benedict gave you a lie, and it took away the pain. I know it all Timmy...The Darkness, The Way – is that **** the truth or a lie? I asked, I learned, I bled. You...”


“You’ve had a net underneath you all along, Timmy. You’re crazy for the sake of crazy, and that’s all snazzy and catchy...but it doesn’t hurt. There’s no anger or jealousy in your life within these walls, you’re just helping Old Man Benedict play a game...you get paid to play a part. You almost got blown up for this, but the money’s good...the soul isn’t touched...of course, you’ve played the pawn because you fear pain. And unfortunately, my fate here...is to make you hurt. People don’t want me to save you, people don’t want me to help you. The people have spoken Timmy Windham, and guess what? Apparently, its boring.”

RANDALLS pauses, letting the words hang in the air...

“Its a shame really, part of me truly hoped I could find my redemption through less psychological methods. ...but if you do not care for your body, Timmy...I will have to tear through your mind...through your soul...quickly and as painfully as possible. And make no mistake, because of this...it is the reason that you are the first.”

RANDALLS looks back at the camera...

“The public likes proof...The Unified Title, the game involved...ten years ago, a similar path started with yourself. In ten days...”


”You will not remember one quite like it. The light has gone, I shall give the people what they wish of me. Timmy Windham...only God can save you now.”

01-11-06, 12:30 AM
(FADEIN: Timmy Windham on a dock, the PCL 2 visible in the background, gutting a fish with a butter knife.)

TIMMY WINDHAM: I’m an actor Mike. If you pay me to play the part of the mental virgin, so be it. But, you can’t rape the willing. Unzip into my skin, and wear me for days. Break me, until I haven’t a clue as to who I am. And I’ll simply be back to the beginning.

I’m an actor Mike.

If you asked me my name, I’d ask the same.

Why cry about sin, why muse about big business Mike when there’s a new role to play?

Did you really think accepting a check to maim another man came attached with honor? When you stepped out of the desert, when you started running from the ghosts Mike you became a pawn, as much of a suit as Thomas or Merritt. When they asked how you felt about drugging a man you had to know this wasn’t a baptism by anything but fire. You’ve made millions, and with a needle look for irony. Are you ashamed? Was the blood shed for free? I can’t believe it was. You’re a star, Mike. A caged animal…a carnie unleashed on a Vegas show. You’ve been rewarded in this life. If you’re looking for satisfaction beyond, find a pre-teen and play the choking game.

What’s this battle mean?

What’s another life laid to ruins?

I’m Timmy Windham because I have no other name.

We die tomorrow, and the world goes on. We cut our hair but there’s no time. Just waste, the two of us rotting at the hands of the star dust that made us. **** writers Mike, that’s the simplest kind of poetry you can find.

What’s remorse or morality when everything was pre-ordained?

I’ve been sure of nothing in my life, but that I must be the Last Windham Standing.

You’re a reflection of me that stands in the way. Troy’s time is coming. Troy’s career, his apology to inflicting me with none of his charm, but all of his hate, is what I will get.

But, if I don’t…I win.

Haunt my dreams Mike.

Break my bones.

And when the sun fades, you’ll see irony and know no shame.


01-11-06, 07:14 PM
”The Last Windham Standing...all we need is Sam Elliot narrating and I’m sure the man in charge of this company will declare you three boys visionaries for the next six millenia.”

FADEIN: ‘THE WOLF’ MIKE RANDALLS walking along the beach of Montego Bay barefoot, moonlight sparkling off the calm waters, the sky crystal clear. RANDALLS is wearing blue jeans, a beige cowboy hat and a half-unbuttoned short-sleeve flannel shirt.

“Of course, its the same man that’s convinced he can’t make two nickles off me anymore, its the same man you’re now accusing of telling me to drug Hornet. Merritt asking me to drug Hornet? That’s about as likely as one of us paying to see a therapist. Naturally, there’s really only one person that knows the truth...and that’s myself.”

RANDALLS stops for a moment to collect his thoughts, looking at his surroundings for a moment before making eye contact with the camera...

“You want to cross lines of reality and business? I don’t care, I’m not going to deny you the opportunity of twisting what you need to alleviate any concerns you might have about me. Listen, Kid...and I say listen because apparently the word’s definition is something you’ve lost from all those nights sleeping with stuffed animals containing highly acidic chemicals...and I say Kid cause Timmy Windham is just the stage.”

“...When I say you’re crazy for the sake of being crazy that means that I understand that you’re acting. When I say that I’m supposed to believe it...it means I get what you’re doing, but it doesn’t mean I’ve got any faith whatsoever in whatever role you’ve been paid to play.”

RANDALLS smirks...then continues walking...

“For instance, its easy to be the Last Windham Standing when you avoid them. Troy’s out there in the open...Lord knows you could’ve caught him faceplanting a 170 pound woman to prove a point, I’m sure you’re right up Miles’ alley...crazy and willing to sign a waiver...”

RANDALLS nods his head in what seems like a disappointed teacher at a gifted pupil...

“No, Kid...Troy’s time is coming only because Benedict tells you to say that. Troy’s apology isn’t meant for your ears, its only allowing Benedict more time to use you. You can look ahead to Troy Windham and a paycheck, you can needle and prod Mark’s unstable synapses with Catherine bouncing on your lap...truth is Kid, I don’t give a ****. The Windhams never hurt you...The Windhams never loved you. I’ve watched the part for ten years, maybe now’s not the time to play it. Maybe being crazy for the sake of being crazy isn’t going to work with the crazy.”

RANDALLS stops, flashes a smile...his emerald eyes slitting slightly...

“You have to play the part, Kid. You can’t sit there worriedly asking why Mike Randalls requested this match. You can’t show yourself lying awake at night wondering if your part has been offered to someone much more adept at fulfilling the means to the end...”

RANDALLS laughs quietly...

“Wear your flesh? Break your bones? Been there, done that. I played that part way better than you EVER will...no...this is about your heart. This is about a pain you can’t mask with an act. This is about what Thomas wants...this is about what the people want...its about redemption...its about deception...and for one night it won’t be about Timmy Windham...”

RANDALLS’ smirk fades...his eyes widen...

“It’s all about you. Whoever you are, however you hurt, wherever you hide...I will be there...making you feel something horrifying, but perhaps inspirational. I will let those eyes that wish to look through the oppressor’s amongst agony, see your flesh only quiver...while your heart rips...while your ego crumbles. It’s your choice whether you hold onto the pain...for yourself...or for you’ve pretended to be. I’m only deliverance kid, you’re just the Hunted. You can find the courage to become what you’ve dreamed...whether I haunt your dreams or not...it's only a metaphor. Just don’t be naive enough to believe for one moment that I cared about yours or anyone else's last name.”

“Your pain is what people want...in ten days I shall give it to them.”


“May God be with you in this time of darkness, only his light can show you The Way.”

01-15-06, 07:41 PM
(FADEIN: Timmy Windham inside HORNET'S Greensboro home's media room. He reclines in a leather chair, and pauses an episode of "Seinfeld" Season 5.)

TIMMY WINDHAM: Who better to play the part of a lamb than I, Mike?

You decry the part I was destined, the part I was created by the arrogance of man to play, and turn deaf to my last name. Miami wants my pain. My blood. The Romans gather in today's social setting to see Timmy Windham stripped of the truths he knows, and shamed.

I have been programmed by Benedict.

I have been raised.

But, what scares you more than anything Mike, is over ten years later the little Christian Solider hired to play the harp of violence is still here. At your worst, when the hungry Wolf wasn't robbed of purpose, I defied you Mike. I took the trappings that tamed you, and became the face of this broken company.

It's a face with no name.

I wasn't released into the wild, into the crosshairs of the Randalls, Hornet, and Windham war to be the star of the show. Timmy Windham was wiped across the canvas of this company as men pleased....and the pen was often dipped in the blood off my forehead, or brother's mistakes.

We're learning the same lesson, Mike.

It's never been about us has it?

We're puppets. We're actors, and the one who walks from Miami is the brave soul who eyes his reflection in the mirror and cops to the company line best.

You don't scare me.

Never have.

I've been inside the Lair, Mike, and I've come home everytime in hopes of better understanding Benedict's plan.

Vengeance is timing. Troy will fall. I will be the Last Windham Standing. I will be the one telling your children over a great fire, that there was a time when the CSWA suffered fools, and stood for ideas made from less than desperation and emotional pain.

I am Timmy Windham.

Remember the name.