Bad Dreams

"I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." --- Hamlet

People have bad dreams all the time.  Some of them are more nightmarish than others.  Some bad dreams are more figurative; just a reference to a bad memory, a memory that we’d like to forget.  And let’s be honest, everyone has something they’d like to forget.

Personally I’d love to forget Puerto Rico.  I’d love to forget the day that I lost the United States Championship to Jinn.  It had been several months after that until I managed to get my legs back under me and compete at the level I knew I could compete.  The Future Is Now was a true Godsend for me, because not only was I on a major roll, but I managed to regain that championship composure, I regained that championship fighting spirit, I only lack one thing…

…a championship belt.

I have the opportunity to put my bad dreams of Puerto Rico to an end and walk away with championship gold once again.

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Flashback

July of 2006

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Our scene opens in Glasgow, Scotland.  The long black limousine of one Meagan Collins is speeding down the road.  In the backseat we see Meagan Collins and her adopted brother Kevin Richards.  Meagan is attired in a sparkly black dress with a split on the side that goes up to her hip, black open-toed high-heeled shoes, and red devil horns sitting atop her lovely head.  Her long black hair is left to flow freely and unrestrained down to below her shoulders.  Kevin is attired in black dress pants, matching black sports jacket, and a white button down silk shirt.  His black hair is slicked back.  An impatient glare is written across her lovely face as she begins to shout out at loyal Schultz, who is driving.

“Damnit, Schultz, how much longer until we arrive?!”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer, Mrs. Collins.”  Schultz responds.

Schultz is glad that he is up front driving, because otherwise Meagan would see the look of disdain and disgust written across his face.  He hates this job Meagan is having him do.  He knows how wrong it is, how evil it is, yet, just like Kayla about a month ago, he needs this job and knows that turning on Meagan would be like committing suicide.  Just look at what Meagan is doing to Kayla Jones and her family.  Schultz shudders to think of what Meagan might do to him if he were to betray her.

“Good.” Meagan says as she stretches her arms out above her head.  “Because this drive is making me tired.”

“Well, Meg, it isn’t Schultz’s fault.  You told Oliver to find a hidden, out of the way hideout.” Kevin says.

“I know.” Meagan responds with a note of frustration in her voice. “But did he have to pick a hideout THIS far out of the way?!”

“We have arrived, Mrs. Collins.” Comes Schultz’s voice from up front.

Meagan looks out the window excitedly and, sure enough, the limousine slowly comes to a stop.  Schultz then gets out of the limousine, walks over to the back, and opens the door, allowing Kevin and Meagan to step out.

“So, where is this place he has picked out?”

“He told me where to find it.” Kevin responds.  “Just follow me.”

Kevin takes Meagan by her right arm and leads her into a dark, dingy, and dank alleyway.  Meagan immediately uses her left hand to pinch her nose, not wanting to smell any of this horrid stench of the alleyway any longer.  Kevin then turns to his left and finds a dirty, almost broken down door.  Kevin opens the door and leads himself and Meagan inside.  The place is pitch black and Meagan immediately takes a big whiff of this place and wishes that Oliver Hardy had chosen a bakery or a flower store as a hideout instead of this rat-infested place.

“So……where is he, Kevin?”

“I’m not sure.”  Kevin responds with a thoroughly confused look on his face.  “This is the place he told me about.”

“HALT!  WHO GOES THERE?!” Comes a booming voice in the darkness.

Meagan narrows her eyes in anger. “Quit the goofing around, Oliver.  Show yourself!”

With that said, the lights pop on and Meagan can finally get a good look at this place.  There is a tiny catwalk at the top and a flight of stairs leading up to it.  On the ground level, where Meagan and Kevin happen to be, there is absolutely nothing but rats, a few garbage cans, and one extremely frightened Marie Annabelle Jones chained up to the wall.  Meagan turns her head to the stairs leading up to the catwalk and she spies Oliver Hardy standing there on the steps with a megaphone in his hand.

“This is great, isn’t it?” Oliver asks, motioning to the megaphone. “It makes me sound just like that guy from the Wizard of Oz.”

“Well I’m glad you’re having a good time, Ollie, because I’m not!” Meagan storms up to Hardy, walks part of the way up the steps to meet up, takes hold of the megaphone, and tosses it on the ground.

Oliver looks down at his now broken toy and then looks back up at Meagan with a slightly arrogant smirk on his face. “What’s gotten into you, sweet-cheeks?  Is it that time of the month already?”

Meagan rears back and slaps the taste out of Oliver’s mouth.  “Real funny, asshole.  I freed you from the gay hillbillies and even paid you good money to do a simple job for me, but what do I get in return?  I get a deviation from the plan!” Meagan angrily points over towards the cowering Annabelle Jones. “That little bitch isn’t supposed to be alive right now!  You were supposed to have raped her, immediately killed her, and left her corpse on Sean McBride and Angelica Jones’s doorstep.”  Meagan takes Oliver by his collar and pulls him in closer so that he can see the rage in her eyes.  “So tell me, Ollie, why is it that I do not see a corpse over there right now?”  Meagan releases Oliver so that he can begin his explanation.

“I know that’s what you told me to do, but an even better idea came to me while I was bringing her here.  You want to torture Kayla too, right?”

“Duh.” Meagan responds, rolling her eyes.

“Well, the way I figure it, why don’t I leave Annabelle here alive, and then I kidnap Kayla?  That way Kayla can be here and be forced to watch her precious niece get murdered.”

A sadistic grin wraps across Meagan’s face. “I like it.  I like it a lot.” Meagan steps down off of the stairs and walks over to where young Marie Annabelle Jones is chained up.  Meagan notices a small chair nearby, so she reaches over, grabs it, and pulls it over so that she can sit down while she chats with Marie. “Good afternoon, Annabelle.  Are you surprised to see me?”

“You?  How could you help this man, aunt Meagan?  I thought you loved me and……….” Marie starts, but is immediately cut off by Meagan screaming at her at the top of her lungs.  “GET THIS STRAIGHT, YOU LITTLE SLUT, I AM NOT YOUR AUNT!” Meagan takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down. “And if I was, I’d commit suicide out of the shame of being related to someone as worthless as you!  Don’t you realize that no one gives a damn about you?  No one will even miss you when you die you little slut!”

“That’s not true!” Marie says.  That statement barely makes it out through the twenty year old’s crying.  “My mom and aunt Kayla love me and………”

“Your mommy and aunt Kayla are mentally unstable, Annabelle.  In a day or two, Oliver Hardy over there is going to kidnap your aunt Kayla and he’s going to do rape her just like he raped you, only he isn’t going to kill her, oh no.  He’s going to go ahead and free her, because he and I both know that it’ll drive Kayla over the edge and she’ll kill herself.  And as for your mom, well, with you dead and her sister dead, well, that will drive her over the edge as well and she’ll probably end up spending the rest of her years in a padded room.”

“How………..how could you do such a thing?!?!”

Meagan laughs sadistically. “Oh how naïve you are, little Annabelle.  But it isn’t your fault.  Your mother let you get naïve.  Your mother allowed you to grow up thinking that humanity was pure and good.  Well, allow me to educate you about humanity, Annabelle.  Everyone, deep down inside, is evil.  Whether they’ll admit it or not, everybody is an evil bastard.  The only difference between them and me is that I don’t run from the evil nature that I know is my true self.  I embrace it.”

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Present Day

Off Camera

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“NO!”

Marie shoots up in bed, startled and breathing heavily.  She scans the room, first looking straight ahead, then looking to the right, and finally to the left.  She feels the warm rays of the sun beating down upon her and she slowly regains her bearings.  She realizes that she just had a bad dream.  No, more than just a bad dream.  She had a nightmare.  She relived a nightmare from eleven years ago.  The nightmare of when she was kidnapped and raped by Oliver Hardy.  She isn’t chained up in that rat infested hell hole.  She’s underneath a plain chocolate brown colored comforter with her husband, Arthur Pond, in a king sized bed.  She is very much grateful that all of this was just a dream.

She still has these dreams from time to time.  But they have, at least, lessened in frequency.  Immediately after the incident she had the nightmares almost every day.  But after therapy the nightmares have damn near stopped.  Unfortunately they have not stopped completely.  They do return from time to time.  She’ll never completely lose the nightmares until the day she dies, for she has a constant reminder of that night living in the same house with her.

Her son, Sean Connor Jones, was the result of that incident.  Most women probably would have aborted, and Marie at times wonders what if she had done that, but as a practicing Catholic with her strong religious devotion she felt she couldn’t do it.  She loves her son, she just hates the memory that he constantly brings back to her.

Nevertheless, it is time to at least try to forget about that and move on with another day.  Marie swings her legs over the sides of the bed and places her feet upon the floor, pausing just for a moment to gain her bearings before pushing herself up onto her feet, standing up to full length.  The leader of the ginger nation begins to slowly, as if in a daze, walk towards the bathroom door.  She stops right at the bathroom door, turning towards a closet, which she opens to reveal a full length mirror on the inside.  She gazes at her reflection in the mirror and what she sees pleases her; a beautiful figure of sexy femininity attired in sexy black lace panties and bra.

“MOM!”

Marie’s head immediately turns toward the door.  It’s coming from down the hall; that’s the voice of her son, Sean.  Marie reaches into the closet and produces a pink robe and puts it on.  The redheaded Boston native then exits her bedroom and walks down the hall to the very next door and opens it, stepping inside.  She finds her son sitting up in his single bed.  A pitiful frown is on his face as his mother watches on curiously.

“What’s wrong, Sean?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“That makes two of us, dear.” Marie chuckles as she walks further into the room.  She steps up to the bed and sits down on the edge of the bed, joining her eleven year old son.  She looks lovingly into his eyes, a warm smile forms on her face.  Moments like this make her forget about her own personal nightmare.

“It’ll be fine now.” She ruffles his brown hair. “It’s over.  It was just a dream.”

“But it was scary.”

“Maybe it was, but it was just a dream.”

“You don’t get it.” Sean says, shaking his head.

“I don’t get it, eh?” Marie smirks knowingly. “Try me.”

“Huh?”

“Sometimes telling others about your dreams helps.  At least that’s what my mom always told me.  I would always tell her about my bad dreams and it would usually make things better.”

“Oh,” Sean nods his head as he seemingly understands what Marie wants “so you want me to tell you about my dream?”

“That’s right.”

Sean sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t remember it anymore.”

“You forgot your dream already?” Marie asks somewhat incredulously, stifling a laugh as she does not want to make her son feel bad.

“Sorry.  I can’t help it, I just forgot.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been TOO bad of a dream if you forgot about it already.” Marie says with a wink.  She starts to get up but her son pulls her back down onto the bed.  She looks at him curiously. “What?  What is it?”

“It’s your turn.” He points a finger at Marie.

“My turn to what?”

“Tell me about your dream.” He says. “Didn’t you just say you had a bad dream too, mom?”

The kid is smart, smart beyond his age.  Marie did in fact suggest to him that she had a bad dream as well.  He picked up on it when she said ‘that makes two of us’.  The thing is, as much as Marie doesn’t want to lie to him, she also does not want to tell him about her dream.  He’s too young for that.

“Uh, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“But you just said it was good to talk about dreams.”

“Yeah, I did.” Marie nods her head in agreement. “But you never told me your dream, did you?”

“No, but I forgot.”

“Then I forgot mine too, how does that sound?”

“Alright…I guess…” Sean says, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“It’ll be ok, kiddo.” Marie kisses him on his cheek. “You’ll understand one day.  Trust me.”

Marie again tries to rise up off of the bed but Sean still wants her to stay, so he pulls on her arm to keep her there.  She turns to face him with a curious gaze on her face.

“What’s wrong now, Sean?”

“Why are you leaving?”

“I have things to do.” Marie says with a sigh. “It’s going to be a busy day for me.”

“Can’t you just stay here today?”

“Sorry, Sean, but I can’t.” She says, shaking her head. “You know what I do for a living, right?  You know about my career.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Sean remarks, nodding his head sadly.

“What’s this whole ‘unfortunately’ stuff about?” Marie asks curiously. “I thought you loved wrestling.”

“I do but…” He shakes his head “…nevermind.”

“No, we’re not ‘neverminding’ this one.” Marie sits down on the bed again. “What is it, Sean?  Tell me.”

“It’s just that you are never here.  I’m only with you when you take me with you on the road; which you hardly ever do.  All the other kids in the neighborhood have their parents to do things with them.  I have no one.”

“You have Arthur.”

“He’s not my dad.”

With that Marie is immediately stunned.  She isn’t sure how exactly she should respond to this.  After a moment’s pause, she does come up with what she hopes will be a suitable response.

“But Arthur is…”

“He’s a step-father.  Yeah, I know.  That’s what the other kids say.  But he’s not my real dad.” Sean frowns inquisitively at his mom. “Who is my real dad?”

“Your father is dead, honey.  We’ve been over this before.”

“I know but that’s not what I asked.” The intelligent Sean remarks.  “Who is my dad?”

Marie stands up and shakes her head. “Not now, Sean…”

“But mom…”

“NOT NOW!”

She turns and storms out of his bedroom.  She walks back down the hall and right back into her bedroom.  She slams the door shut behind her.  This wakes up Arthur who slowly stirs awake.  He sits up in bed and rubs his eyes to gain his bearings as he looks on at his lovely wife Marie.

“Marie…are you…” he blinks his eyes a few more times “…are you ok?”

“No!  I’m not!” Marie shakes her head. “He asked the question, Arthur!”

“What question?” Arthur says right before yawning.

“His father…” Marie’s voice trails off. “Sean asked about his father.”

“Oh, I see.” Arthur remarks, nodding his head with a certain realization of what just happened this morning.  Arthur swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up.  Clad in just his boxers, he walks over to his wife. “Sean is a very smart kid.  You knew it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“I know but I was dreading it.  I really was.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.” Marie admits slowly and quietly, almost in a whispered tone.

“You told him nothing?!” Arthur repeats incredulously, not quite believing his wife. “Marie, he deserves to know.”

“I know but I’m not ready.” Marie shakes her head. “To be honest, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.”

“Well you need to get ready.  The genie is out of the bottle now and you’ll have to face this soon, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m scared…” Marie admits as her voice trails off “…hold me.”

Arthur and Marie embrace tightly.

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On Camera

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Why do I do this?  Why do I constantly put my body on the line inside of the squared circle?  Is it for the entertainment of the fans who buy tickets to these events?  Or maybe it’s for fame and glory and the championship accolades?  I wish I could say that it’s purely for the love of the game.  I wish I could say it’s just because I enjoy what I do, that it’s because I want to give back to this sport, but the truth is that it’s only one part of the reason why I do this job.  Granted it is a big reason and a very important reason why I do this job but it is not the only reason I continue to climb into that ring each and every week.

I am a competitor first and foremost.  I climb into this ring each and every week against the best talent pool professional wrestling has ever seen and to test myself, to challenge myself, to see if I really am The Crown Jewel of Professional Wrestling.  Competition against some of the best athletes in the world today is a big reason why I do what I do and when you beat the best, when you climb atop the mountain, eventually you are rewarded with a symbol of what you’ve accomplished…

…championship gold.

The fact is that it’s been since June of last year when I last held championship gold here in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  I never should have lost the United States Championship to Jinn back at Supreme Saturday Peurto Rico but that one is on me.  I’m not going to gripe and complain about unfair treatment by SCW management like some.  I’m not going to orchestrate some massive multi-layered conspiracy just to get a championship back around my waist like some self-centered, egotistical brats who only bother to show up when a title is on the line.  I lost the title and I haven’t been able to get anywhere near gold because I haven’t been at the top of my game lately.  It’s all on me and it’s all up to me to get back to the level where I want to be.

I am itching for more gold, for more opportunities, but I have to make those opportunities happen.  I can’t wait for them to just fall into my lap.  It’s up to me to work my way back up to the championship status that I want.  And it appears that I truly will work my way up from the bottom.

Derek Adonis, you may be a former SCW Television Champion but let’s face it, no one took your reign seriously.  To this day no one takes you seriously, Derek.  I don’t want to sound like I’m burying you or anything, because you do have a hell of a lot of talent; you don’t win a championship here in SCW for being a loser…a sham…a fraud…so there is real talent there in that body of yours.  I recognize it and am willing to admit it, even if most of your peers in this industry are not willing to recognize or admit it.

The fact is, Derek, even despite your reign as Television Champion, people still recognize you as a comic relief.  You are the guy that comes out and makes everyone laugh when SCW Breakdown has become just a little too over-dramatic.  That’s been your role and you’ve been ok with playing that role for a very long time.  Hell, you’ve been playing that role ever since you signed with SCW.  There was only one moment, one brief moment when you were more than just the comic relief.

You were the SCW Television Champion.

Now you find yourself primed in a position where you could get an opportunity to regain that Television Title.  That sounds great but there’s one problem with that and your problem comes in the form of The Crown Jewel of Professional Wrestling.

The fact is that I want this just as bad as you do, Derek.  Actually, scratch that, I want this worse than you do.  I just need to win one match, one match only, and I have a title opportunity.  I haven’t had a title opportunity in several months.  I had to bust my ass in a title contender’s series just to prove that I belong in the upper echelon and then there’s you, the comic relief, getting another opportunity in a TV Title Eliminator.

Let me put it to you this way, Derek.  Championship gold may not be the end all be all in this sport, but it damn sure goes a long way to showing that you are a force to be reckoned with.  And damn it, it’s been way too long since I’ve had any sort of championship gold around my waist.

I want to ask you something Derek; how exactly are you going to be spending the remaining hours leading up to our match on Breakdown?  Will you spend them coming up with strategy on how to stop my speed and agility?  Will you spend those hours watching tapes of me in the ring, trying to spot weaknesses that you can exploit?

Or will you spend those hours leading up to our match on Breakdown coming up with a sequel to your Kablamasutra?

Therein lies your problem, Derek.  You have never given any indication that you have or ever will start to take things seriously as a professional wrestler.  And I get what my reputation is, or at least the one that my sister Kimberly tries to put on me.  She says I’m a prude.  Heh, maybe in some ways that’s true, but I prefer to consider myself a realist and pragmatist.  I am considered with the success or failure of my venture as a competitor inside of an SCW ring; unlike you, who thus far has been primarily concerned with selling the Kablamasutra.

I’d love to be proven wrong, Derek, but I believe I’m right when I say that you will still not take this seriously.  You have yet to take things seriously, why start now?  But hey, maybe you will prove me wrong and you’ll take this seriously.  If you do take this seriously, I can guarantee you that you and I will have an epic showdown.  You have the potential to be something and we could have a hell of a match.

Or you could remain in the role of comic relief, and I’ll put your lights out in the matter of minutes.

Either way, it’ll be me who comes out as the winner, it’ll be me advancing to the Television Championship.  I still have bad dreams about Puerto Rico and I am within reach of potentially redeeming myself and bringing those bad dreams to an end.

I just have to get past you first and there is no way in hell I’m letting you stand in my way.