The Aftermath
Feb 7, 2012 15:37:46 GMT -5
Post by Micky O'Reilly on Feb 7, 2012 15:37:46 GMT -5
February 4th 2012
Ring, Ring, Ring
I woke to the sound of a phone, which was strange because I didn't know I had one. I went to stand up but the pounding in my head decided otherwise.
Micky: Fuck… What did I do last night?
I looked around the living room, there were empty cans and bottles strewn over the place, the result of me trying to get used to these strange surroundings, both inside the house and out. It also helped with the dreams. My mind started going back to the dreams, the phone still ringing but forgotten about. There was a loud beep as the answer phone cut in and I snapped back to myself.
Voice: Micky, it's me John, I'm gonna phone back and you've three seconds to answer this fucking phone or when I see you I'm gonna snap your fucking leg in half.
I followed the voice to a small table in the hallway, where I found a nearly full cider can.
Micky: Hair of the dog it is then…
I picked it up and took three big gulps before I noticed the taste… Not cider… Piss…
I turned around and spat as much as could into the base of a large plant that was there, I didn't know or care what type it was. Whilst I was hunched over I had a feeling that I'd done this before… Strange. The phone started ringing again so I wiped my mouth on the back of my right hand and picked up the receiver with my left.
Micky: John?
John: Of course it's me Micky, where the fuck were you?
Micky: What? Oh I was in the uh, gym. I was having a workout mate.
I said the lie with just a split second pause, my breath now caught in my chest, hoping he hadn't noticed.
John: Huh. Good lad, how are your preparations going?
Micky: Fine, I'm over the jet lag now and it's a mighty fine set-up you've got here.
It wasn't a complete lie. I had been working out every day since I'd arrived as I had nothing else to do, but I'd also found plenty of time for… refreshment breaks. I could feel my mind wandering, remembering the emergency bottle of Jamesons I had in the kitchen, and forced myself to concentrate on the phone. I hadn't actually met John yet but he was paying for me to live here and didn't sound like the type of guy who was going to be forgiving of my shortcomings.
John: Good, good. I'm phoning about the Supershow the last week. You did great, it went better than expected, just as I was hoping for, but we're not done yet. Mike Tomkins…
Micky: I thought he was called Hopkins?
John: Haha, no that was a mistake by Sam Roberts, but he doesn't like it so carry on calling him that if you want. Anyway, Tomkins still needs to learn his place, he still needs punishing, you're not going to let him get away with the things he's doing are you?
Micky: No John.
John: Well knowing him he'll probably call you out at Wednesday Weekly Combat and want to fight, make sure you're ready. Don't try anything fancy, just take him down again. And don't forget to record another promo, I've got another camera coming, it should be there soon. The fans loved the last one so I want more of the same, just try not to break this one, OK?
Micky: OK John, I'm mighty sorry about that. I just got caught up in the moment.
John: Don't worry Micky, just find a different camera man this time. I have to go, I've got important business to attend to, now get back in that gym.
The line went dead, John was gone. I needed a drink.
John had said the Supershow was last week, I thought it was last night. How much time had I lost? I went to the kitchen. This had never happened before and I was confused as to how I could forget an entire week of my life. I reached into the back of one of the white cupboards and pulled out the bottle of Jamesons, it was almost empty.
Micky: Fuck sake.
I'd have to go and buy another, but I couldn't go out in this state. I went to the kitchen sink, swilled some whiskey in my mouth and spat it down the plug hole to get rid of the taste of piss. I then grabbed my worn out green toothbrush and toothpaste from the glass next to sink and spent the next 3 minutes thinking about where I was going in my life, the conclusion I came to… The Quick Stop.
I walked out of the house, not bothering to lock the door. The only things in the house worth any money weren't mine anyway so what did I care if someone broke in. I walked the short distance to the Quick Stop in silence, trying to remember what I'd been doing the last few days, but the last thing I could remember was slamming Hopkins… That was what John said he was called wasn't it?… slamming Hopkins onto some kind of belt he'd won and then going to a bar. Then what? A woman came up to me, bought me a drink and said she'd needed a favour. Said Hopkins had done something to her, spat in her face and been abusive or something like that. Piece of shit. And then… nothing. I couldn't remember what happened next, couldn't remember what I'd done. I was here though now, at the Quick Stop. I walked in, nodded to goatee man, and turned right to pick up some eggs to make food when I got home. What I saw completely surprised me. A woman was sat in the middle of the floor about half way down the aisle surrounded by cartons of milk moaning about the expiration dates… I didn't even know they sold milk! I grabbed some eggs and went back to the till.
Micky: Got any more of that special order Jamesons there fella?
Clerk: Again? That's like the tenth one this week! I swear you shouldn't be standing.
Micky: I don't suppose you know anything else I've done this week eh?
Clerk: I don't know… I mean, when you came in at the weekend your knuckles were all swollen up and you were muttering about how someone deserved it. I didn't ask incase you hit me too. Nineteen dollars.
I picked up my shopping and handed over my money. I walked out deep in thought. I'd been in a fight last week. Well, I knew that already. Me and Hopkins had a half hour no holds barred match up at the Supershow and I'd chokeslammed him from the top of a ladder, it sounded pretty surreal but I would swear on the bible that's how it happened. There was something else though that I couldn't put my finger on, something that seemed out of place, maybe another fight I'd been in. It was all blurry though, and because of my distraction I'd just bumped into a midget, knocking them to the floor.
Micky: Sorry boss, I didn't see you there.
I leant down and picked him back up with one hand by his backpack. Huh, not a midget, a school kid. Same difference. He didn't say anything, just gaped at me and ran off. School kid? What time was it anyway? As I approached my house I saw my neighbour, a 40 something business man, Neil Clark getting into his silver Toyota.
Micky: Hey Neil, do you have the time mate?
Neil: Sure Micky it's just after 8.30 While you're here though could I have a quick word about something?
This was unusual as I was pretty sure he didn't like me but I walked onto his drive anyway.
Neil: It's just I know we all need some company and some privacy from time to time, but could you maybe try to keep the noise down?
Micky: Oh, are my workouts too loud for ya? I'll make sure I keep it down from now on mate.
Neil: Workouts? That's one way of putting it I suppose. Sounds more like you're murdering the poor woman the way she screams.
Micky: Woman? What woman?
Neil: Haha, nice one… Wait… Are you being serious? Christ. The damn woman who's been staying there the last three nights Micky.
Micky: I think you've got the wrong man Neil.
Neil: No I don't Micky, I don't care how you spend your free time, just sort it.
I didn't know what he was talking about but I was determined to find out. I gritted my teeth, turned and stormed through the door to my place, ditching my stuff and following the sound of the television to the living room.
Woman: Hey sweetie, I made you pancakes… also the mailman dropped this off.
She gestured to a parcel and plate on the coffee table, damn those pancakes smelled good. I didn't recognise her but if the food tasted as good as they smelled then I didn't really give a damn. She was short compared to me, only 5'5", curvaceous - maybe a size 12, I didn't know women's sizes, and had brown hair and green eyes. She wore a Walmart uniform with a name tag that said "Alyson". I looked around, something was missing.
Alyson: I also took the liberty of cleaning up while you were out. There was a can in the hallway that smelled really funky.
That was it, all the rubbish was gone. I don't know how I'd met this woman but she seemed like a good person to have around.
Micky: Alyson.
Alyson: For the hundredth time, call me Aly. I have to go to work but I'll see you later lover boy.
She kissed me passionately and walked out, grabbing a small black leather handbag on her way.
I picked up the plate, there was some kind of sticky sauce drizzled on them that I thought might be honey. I cut a large chunk off and tried them. It wasn't honey but it tasted like heaven, and went really well with the whiskey I was now taking a swig of…
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The scene opens in a small home gym. The camera is behind Micky who is doing pullups on a doorway bar. He is topless so we can see his muscles in his upper body tensing as he does it.
Micky: Four ninety eight, four ninety nine, five hundred.
He unbends his legs and stands up, the person holding the camera is clearly shorter than him so he looks even larger against the door frame. We hear Alyson's voice in the background.
Alyson: Well done baby, 5 minutes, that's your best time yet!
Micky: And I haven't even broken a sweat yet. Now, Jay James and Chris Loki, I've noticed that the both of you haven't yet responded to me. I expect that's either through fear or you've been too busy watching twilight together. It doesn't bother me because I have these little voices in my ear, and they've been whispering. Whispering to Micky about the things you've been saying, and I'm here to set the record straight and put you in your place.
Micky walks over to a weights bench where there is a barbell set up with at least 200kg on it.
Micky: Ignore that measly weight on there, that's for my half hour warm up set.
He reaches down next to the bench, picks up a black sports bottle and drinks deeply from it.
Micky: Ice cold spring water from the Swiss Alps, I treat my body like a temple…
We can just about hear Alyson's whisper.
Alyson: I thought I saw you fill it with Jamesons?
Micky: Shhh, they don't know that… As I was saying, I treat my body like a temple and… uh… I don't really know where I was going with that but Chris, you didn't sleep with my sister! That's what Steve said too and I showed him why it's bad to lie! My sister is an angel and so far out your reach that she's UEFA Champion's League and you're Sunday League pub football! She wouldn't be seen dead with a man who wears tights!
Alyson: When am I going to meet your sister anyway?
Micky: Huh? What sister?
Alyson: You just said…
Micky: It doesn't matter… Jay James, apparently you've been saying I'm a delusional alcoholic who doesn't even know what day of the week it is. Well it might be true that I don't know what day it is, and I might not know what happened in the week after the Supershow…
Alyson: What? You never told me that, do you even remember how we met?!?
Micky: Not now treacle, I'm trying to do something… But that's because someone drugged me… probably… That woman from the bar! And as for being an alcoholic, well you now have video evidence that there is nothing in this bottle other than orange juice…
Alyson whispers again.
Alyson: You said spring water.
Micky screws up his face and looks to the side, the strain of thinking clear for all to see.
Micky: Yeah spring water, whatever, it's on video now. And delusional? Me? I'll have you know that the great Dalai Lama once told me I was the most centred person he'd ever met, so there!
Micky takes another drink from his bottle.
Micky: Now while you two have been staying quiet, only having the balls to talk about me behind my back, making up stuff that isn't true, I've been doing a lot of research on the both of you. And it's all fact… probably. For example Chris Loki, I know that whilst you were living as a vagabond you indulged in some dubious activities to make money, didn't you fella. I don't want to go into specifics but lets just say that I know you once sold a dead seagull to a blind man and told him it was labrador. See, dubious. Jay James, I also know some of your darker secrets. And yours are perhaps even worse than Chris's. I hate to break this to all of your loyal fans, but I can't have respect for a grown man that listens to Coldplay and Nickelback. That's right kids our Mr James has awful taste in music, oh and I'm pretty sure he has French ancestors.
We hear Alyson gasp in the background, feigning shock and terror at these revelations.
Micky: Now if you'll excuse me I need to work on these babies.
He points to his pectoral muscles and the gestures to a pair of ridiculously heavy dumbbells on the floor.
Micky: Set the clock babe, two hours…
The screen fades to black and the FGA logo appears
Ring, Ring, Ring
I woke to the sound of a phone, which was strange because I didn't know I had one. I went to stand up but the pounding in my head decided otherwise.
Micky: Fuck… What did I do last night?
I looked around the living room, there were empty cans and bottles strewn over the place, the result of me trying to get used to these strange surroundings, both inside the house and out. It also helped with the dreams. My mind started going back to the dreams, the phone still ringing but forgotten about. There was a loud beep as the answer phone cut in and I snapped back to myself.
Voice: Micky, it's me John, I'm gonna phone back and you've three seconds to answer this fucking phone or when I see you I'm gonna snap your fucking leg in half.
I followed the voice to a small table in the hallway, where I found a nearly full cider can.
Micky: Hair of the dog it is then…
I picked it up and took three big gulps before I noticed the taste… Not cider… Piss…
I turned around and spat as much as could into the base of a large plant that was there, I didn't know or care what type it was. Whilst I was hunched over I had a feeling that I'd done this before… Strange. The phone started ringing again so I wiped my mouth on the back of my right hand and picked up the receiver with my left.
Micky: John?
John: Of course it's me Micky, where the fuck were you?
Micky: What? Oh I was in the uh, gym. I was having a workout mate.
I said the lie with just a split second pause, my breath now caught in my chest, hoping he hadn't noticed.
John: Huh. Good lad, how are your preparations going?
Micky: Fine, I'm over the jet lag now and it's a mighty fine set-up you've got here.
It wasn't a complete lie. I had been working out every day since I'd arrived as I had nothing else to do, but I'd also found plenty of time for… refreshment breaks. I could feel my mind wandering, remembering the emergency bottle of Jamesons I had in the kitchen, and forced myself to concentrate on the phone. I hadn't actually met John yet but he was paying for me to live here and didn't sound like the type of guy who was going to be forgiving of my shortcomings.
John: Good, good. I'm phoning about the Supershow the last week. You did great, it went better than expected, just as I was hoping for, but we're not done yet. Mike Tomkins…
Micky: I thought he was called Hopkins?
John: Haha, no that was a mistake by Sam Roberts, but he doesn't like it so carry on calling him that if you want. Anyway, Tomkins still needs to learn his place, he still needs punishing, you're not going to let him get away with the things he's doing are you?
Micky: No John.
John: Well knowing him he'll probably call you out at Wednesday Weekly Combat and want to fight, make sure you're ready. Don't try anything fancy, just take him down again. And don't forget to record another promo, I've got another camera coming, it should be there soon. The fans loved the last one so I want more of the same, just try not to break this one, OK?
Micky: OK John, I'm mighty sorry about that. I just got caught up in the moment.
John: Don't worry Micky, just find a different camera man this time. I have to go, I've got important business to attend to, now get back in that gym.
The line went dead, John was gone. I needed a drink.
John had said the Supershow was last week, I thought it was last night. How much time had I lost? I went to the kitchen. This had never happened before and I was confused as to how I could forget an entire week of my life. I reached into the back of one of the white cupboards and pulled out the bottle of Jamesons, it was almost empty.
Micky: Fuck sake.
I'd have to go and buy another, but I couldn't go out in this state. I went to the kitchen sink, swilled some whiskey in my mouth and spat it down the plug hole to get rid of the taste of piss. I then grabbed my worn out green toothbrush and toothpaste from the glass next to sink and spent the next 3 minutes thinking about where I was going in my life, the conclusion I came to… The Quick Stop.
I walked out of the house, not bothering to lock the door. The only things in the house worth any money weren't mine anyway so what did I care if someone broke in. I walked the short distance to the Quick Stop in silence, trying to remember what I'd been doing the last few days, but the last thing I could remember was slamming Hopkins… That was what John said he was called wasn't it?… slamming Hopkins onto some kind of belt he'd won and then going to a bar. Then what? A woman came up to me, bought me a drink and said she'd needed a favour. Said Hopkins had done something to her, spat in her face and been abusive or something like that. Piece of shit. And then… nothing. I couldn't remember what happened next, couldn't remember what I'd done. I was here though now, at the Quick Stop. I walked in, nodded to goatee man, and turned right to pick up some eggs to make food when I got home. What I saw completely surprised me. A woman was sat in the middle of the floor about half way down the aisle surrounded by cartons of milk moaning about the expiration dates… I didn't even know they sold milk! I grabbed some eggs and went back to the till.
Micky: Got any more of that special order Jamesons there fella?
Clerk: Again? That's like the tenth one this week! I swear you shouldn't be standing.
Micky: I don't suppose you know anything else I've done this week eh?
Clerk: I don't know… I mean, when you came in at the weekend your knuckles were all swollen up and you were muttering about how someone deserved it. I didn't ask incase you hit me too. Nineteen dollars.
I picked up my shopping and handed over my money. I walked out deep in thought. I'd been in a fight last week. Well, I knew that already. Me and Hopkins had a half hour no holds barred match up at the Supershow and I'd chokeslammed him from the top of a ladder, it sounded pretty surreal but I would swear on the bible that's how it happened. There was something else though that I couldn't put my finger on, something that seemed out of place, maybe another fight I'd been in. It was all blurry though, and because of my distraction I'd just bumped into a midget, knocking them to the floor.
Micky: Sorry boss, I didn't see you there.
I leant down and picked him back up with one hand by his backpack. Huh, not a midget, a school kid. Same difference. He didn't say anything, just gaped at me and ran off. School kid? What time was it anyway? As I approached my house I saw my neighbour, a 40 something business man, Neil Clark getting into his silver Toyota.
Micky: Hey Neil, do you have the time mate?
Neil: Sure Micky it's just after 8.30 While you're here though could I have a quick word about something?
This was unusual as I was pretty sure he didn't like me but I walked onto his drive anyway.
Neil: It's just I know we all need some company and some privacy from time to time, but could you maybe try to keep the noise down?
Micky: Oh, are my workouts too loud for ya? I'll make sure I keep it down from now on mate.
Neil: Workouts? That's one way of putting it I suppose. Sounds more like you're murdering the poor woman the way she screams.
Micky: Woman? What woman?
Neil: Haha, nice one… Wait… Are you being serious? Christ. The damn woman who's been staying there the last three nights Micky.
Micky: I think you've got the wrong man Neil.
Neil: No I don't Micky, I don't care how you spend your free time, just sort it.
I didn't know what he was talking about but I was determined to find out. I gritted my teeth, turned and stormed through the door to my place, ditching my stuff and following the sound of the television to the living room.
Woman: Hey sweetie, I made you pancakes… also the mailman dropped this off.
She gestured to a parcel and plate on the coffee table, damn those pancakes smelled good. I didn't recognise her but if the food tasted as good as they smelled then I didn't really give a damn. She was short compared to me, only 5'5", curvaceous - maybe a size 12, I didn't know women's sizes, and had brown hair and green eyes. She wore a Walmart uniform with a name tag that said "Alyson". I looked around, something was missing.
Alyson: I also took the liberty of cleaning up while you were out. There was a can in the hallway that smelled really funky.
That was it, all the rubbish was gone. I don't know how I'd met this woman but she seemed like a good person to have around.
Micky: Alyson.
Alyson: For the hundredth time, call me Aly. I have to go to work but I'll see you later lover boy.
She kissed me passionately and walked out, grabbing a small black leather handbag on her way.
I picked up the plate, there was some kind of sticky sauce drizzled on them that I thought might be honey. I cut a large chunk off and tried them. It wasn't honey but it tasted like heaven, and went really well with the whiskey I was now taking a swig of…
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The scene opens in a small home gym. The camera is behind Micky who is doing pullups on a doorway bar. He is topless so we can see his muscles in his upper body tensing as he does it.
Micky: Four ninety eight, four ninety nine, five hundred.
He unbends his legs and stands up, the person holding the camera is clearly shorter than him so he looks even larger against the door frame. We hear Alyson's voice in the background.
Alyson: Well done baby, 5 minutes, that's your best time yet!
Micky: And I haven't even broken a sweat yet. Now, Jay James and Chris Loki, I've noticed that the both of you haven't yet responded to me. I expect that's either through fear or you've been too busy watching twilight together. It doesn't bother me because I have these little voices in my ear, and they've been whispering. Whispering to Micky about the things you've been saying, and I'm here to set the record straight and put you in your place.
Micky walks over to a weights bench where there is a barbell set up with at least 200kg on it.
Micky: Ignore that measly weight on there, that's for my half hour warm up set.
He reaches down next to the bench, picks up a black sports bottle and drinks deeply from it.
Micky: Ice cold spring water from the Swiss Alps, I treat my body like a temple…
We can just about hear Alyson's whisper.
Alyson: I thought I saw you fill it with Jamesons?
Micky: Shhh, they don't know that… As I was saying, I treat my body like a temple and… uh… I don't really know where I was going with that but Chris, you didn't sleep with my sister! That's what Steve said too and I showed him why it's bad to lie! My sister is an angel and so far out your reach that she's UEFA Champion's League and you're Sunday League pub football! She wouldn't be seen dead with a man who wears tights!
Alyson: When am I going to meet your sister anyway?
Micky: Huh? What sister?
Alyson: You just said…
Micky: It doesn't matter… Jay James, apparently you've been saying I'm a delusional alcoholic who doesn't even know what day of the week it is. Well it might be true that I don't know what day it is, and I might not know what happened in the week after the Supershow…
Alyson: What? You never told me that, do you even remember how we met?!?
Micky: Not now treacle, I'm trying to do something… But that's because someone drugged me… probably… That woman from the bar! And as for being an alcoholic, well you now have video evidence that there is nothing in this bottle other than orange juice…
Alyson whispers again.
Alyson: You said spring water.
Micky screws up his face and looks to the side, the strain of thinking clear for all to see.
Micky: Yeah spring water, whatever, it's on video now. And delusional? Me? I'll have you know that the great Dalai Lama once told me I was the most centred person he'd ever met, so there!
Micky takes another drink from his bottle.
Micky: Now while you two have been staying quiet, only having the balls to talk about me behind my back, making up stuff that isn't true, I've been doing a lot of research on the both of you. And it's all fact… probably. For example Chris Loki, I know that whilst you were living as a vagabond you indulged in some dubious activities to make money, didn't you fella. I don't want to go into specifics but lets just say that I know you once sold a dead seagull to a blind man and told him it was labrador. See, dubious. Jay James, I also know some of your darker secrets. And yours are perhaps even worse than Chris's. I hate to break this to all of your loyal fans, but I can't have respect for a grown man that listens to Coldplay and Nickelback. That's right kids our Mr James has awful taste in music, oh and I'm pretty sure he has French ancestors.
We hear Alyson gasp in the background, feigning shock and terror at these revelations.
Micky: Now if you'll excuse me I need to work on these babies.
He points to his pectoral muscles and the gestures to a pair of ridiculously heavy dumbbells on the floor.
Micky: Set the clock babe, two hours…
The screen fades to black and the FGA logo appears