Back at Petey Esdee's rundown motel room a dirty toothless Korean prostitute crawled under the covers, seemingly busy helping him forget all of his problems. She was busy doing something, anyways. Petey seemed unaffected and deep in thought.
Another professional wrestling match under his belt and yet another loss. There was a word for him. A word that had been taught to him by the guy backstage who had hooked him up with the medication to clear his mind.
The word? Jobber.
Petey was told that a jobber isn't necessarily a terrible wrestler. A jobber is a guy that they put in the ring with people in order to make them look better. A jobber was similar to squad members in a military unit. The squad leader only looks as good as those in subordinate to him.
He couldn't help but wonder about his jobber status as it related to tag team action. Was he in a tag team match this week because he was meant to make his partner look better, or were they both jobbers for Jeff Hawkins and Hoss Garrisson? He didn't know for sure so he asked this "anonymous friend" from backstage.
The friend had told him that some of the most notorious jobbers in singles competition turned out to be great in various tag teams that the he was involved in. He told Petey about numerous people who fit that bill, and told him to keep his head up.
"That's funny," Petey thought. "He spoke to me as if I was upset about losing."
Truth be told, he didn't have a care in the world.
Petey just enjoyed the mind-numbing hand-to-hand combat. He enjoyed making his opponents feel like even though their hands were raised in victory that they had, in fact, lost. He was sure Justin Evitable felt that way after his hard fought victory.
Back in his right mind and focusing on the action in the bed, Petey made very subtle movements under the covers.
The toothless Korean hooker must have been finishing him off. She resurfaced from under the motel bed's covers, wiped at her mouth with her hand, and then reached for a tissue on the coffee and alcohol stained nightstand.
Petey couldn't help but think to himself that whatever she had been doing was nothing compared to having the pleasure of "jobbing" in an MBE ring.
(FADEIN: 'WILD CARD' JEFF HAWKINS sitting on a stool in front of a black backdrop that's got a airbrushed MBE logo in white going diagonally across the sheet. HAWKINS is leaning over with his hands clasped on his knees, looking at a deck of cards that he's maneuvering through his fingers like a magician.)
HAWKINS: "I should be upset that I've garnered a reputation as being a flake. A judgment handed down from some know-it-all that's apparently staked out the backwoods Texas highways to watch me wrestle the last year. I sure as hell would like to know when I flaked, but the real truth is that I don't have to prove to a reporter whether or not I'm a flake...just the fans of MBE."
(HAWKINS looks up at the camera for the first time, he starts shaking his head and smirking slightly.)
HAWKINS: "I'm more upset about the impending causality of my actions I'm taking right here and now just by talking. Y'see, its bad enough that I'm watching some acid-twisted Charlie Chaplin colorized movie about a toothless Korean hooker and a jobber. Worse yet, just by opening my mouth in front of this camera...I'm going to be given the gracious honor of listening to the uber-glorified alternate reality version of Steve Lombardi quoting some soulless redheaded slut as if it pertains to what and will happen in the wrestling ring."
(HAWKINS tosses the cards away laughing)
HAWKINS: "And I sure as hell don't want to get a headache that keeps goin' round and around and rounders. . ."
(HAWKINS stops laughing, but keeps his smile as he looks in the camera.)
HAWKINS: "Doc Silver...Peter Sideways Syphillis Snatch Eatin' Dee...I don't care if you're a jobber, I don't care if you're a 20-time World champ. For all I know, Hoss Garrison might be somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon loaded on moonshine and not even aware he's supposed to show the (BLEEP!) up. That's the MBE for ya, so on Dubya-En-Dubya get ready for the best of the 'Wild Card,' cause its gonna be a dogfight as long as I can stand on my own two feet. If I'm lucky enough to have a partner that's watchin' my back, well Doc...(HAWKINS smirks) I know those knees of yours are gettin' creaky, that back is startin' to ache and you talk about goin' 60 minutes like its a fabled myth, but buddy...I go sixty like its out of style."
(HAWKINS' smirk fades, his eyes still focused)
HAWKINS: "I know the odds of getting put in the same ring as Doc Silver in the MBE right now, so you better know that I'm not someone to waste a GOLDEN opportunity. That's why I'm willing to deal with your sarcastic soaked response in twelve hours or less, 'cause as long as I've watched...you're as fast and generic as KFC with the regularity of Taco Hell. Sure, MBE...the (BLEEP!) tastes great when you're hungry at 4 in the mornin', but you'll wake up sick...and you'll be wondering if you just ate a rat."
HAWKINS: "It could be worse. Would you rather eat a toothless hooker's sideways pus(BLEEP!)?"
(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting at a poker table as usual.)
DOC: "The world's so weird...Everything's always happenstance and random...I wish I could really try to wrap my head around all of it, but well there's just so little point in doing so.
A woman in a failing rock band makes a music video, the video is played on MTV a grand total of once...A man sees that video and decides he likes the singer, he tells his friends about her and phone calls are made, contact is established and over the course of time, the woman becomes the singer of a new band...That band is of course Garbage, the woman is Shirley Manson, the man is Steve Marks.
So weird, what if he didn't see that video? What if he went to the bathroom while watching TV and missed it? What if he and his pals decided that 120 minutes was in fact not a home shopping network for singers. So strange that chain of events unfolded exactly that way, that led to me, seeing a video 11 years ago and totally completely changing my career...
So odd, so strange...A man sits down at his computer, plays a 25 dollar tournament. He gets close to winning a seat in the main event of the World Series of Poker...He gets down to the end and decides to dump chips...He doesn't want the seat, he just wants a few thousand dollars...His friend, who is on the phone with him, tells him to go for the seat, that he'll give him 5,000 dollars if he gets it and they'll split whatever the man wins in the Series, so the man plays hard, and wins the seat...
He was Chris Moneymaker, and he went on to become an overnight sensation, winning 2.5 million dollars and ushering in the poker boom...
So strange, what if he'd decided to just play for 4th and take the money, what if he didn't have that friend on the phone driving him forward...Would people still be quoting rounders? Would I be living in Vegas?
The world's so weird...I don't try to make sense of it anymore...Jeff and Hoss, I don't really know you, maybe one of you will be catapulted to stardom with a win over me, most likely not, but one can never tell...
All I know is I'm going to go in, punch the clock and get my pound of flesh, just biding my time till the bill comes due on Promo...And that bill will come due soon enough indeed...
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