*Disclaimer: this character is of Cajun descent and thusly speaks with a heavy accent. For some people this can be difficult to read. If readers would prefer I can always add a “translated” portion to the writing. However for the most part th words such as there, that, this, they, are replaced with d. Dere, dat, dis, dey and so on. Also generally g’s at end of words such as running, throwing, swimming, would be dropped. Once again if this is a big deal I’ll be happy to include a translation version just please let me know in the feedback section, thank you.*
The darkness that surrounds the heart of men is no stranger to most of humanity. However if they knew what hid in that darkness, well, we'd never cut off the lights.
Our scene opens up approximately one in the morning in some run down part of a city. The red bricked buildings look small and as though their best days were a long forgotten memory. Flashes of burning neon the only illumination to be found as little hole in the wall bars litter the street. Most of the windows boarded from busting or tinted to hide the patrons inside, or maybe to spare those who were outside the illusion of civility. There is a couple of motorcycles and cars along the street sloppily parked. The sidewalk more black than gray at this point with spilled beer, blood, and lord knows what else covering it. We notice a small alley between a couple of the buildings and a small flickering if light. As we get closer we see the flickering is from a lighter that is consistently lighting then being extinguished. We follow up the hand holding the lighter to see a dark colored sleeve that leads up to the shoulder. As we reach the shoulder we see a few wisps of a dark colored hair slightly swaying from whatever wind passes by. We try to get a glimpse of the face of the figure but it's hidden in the darkness of a nearby shadow. The silence is finally broken as a deep voice speaks.
“Yew know dere was dis saying once before. Bout if'n yews ever dance wit de devil in de pale moon light. Howevers, I always found dat particular phrase humorous, as I can tell yew first hand mon amie. De Devil, he don't dance, no sir-ree. Torture, maim, deceive, dese, dese are de traits of de dark one. Not sometin, as frivolous and joyous as dancin.”
The lighter flicks to life once more but this time comes closer to the shadow covered face as it lights a cigarette screwed between the lips of the figure. We can see a strong jawed face that has slight bristles of hair growing like a five o'clock shadow at eight at night. The eyes flicker in the fire shining a hazel hue back at us. The fire is extinguished again as the face goes back into darkness except the small area around the mouth illuminated by the embers of the cigarette.
“So I recokon, de question dat we find ourselves facin, is dis. Have yew been associatin wit devils and demons. Have yew allowed dem dark forces to seep into ya core and fester like the putrid infection dat dey are? Cause yew believe me, mon amie, dey are a putrid infection.”
The figure before us slowly squats down taking a long drag off his cigarette before blowing the smoke out. We follow the smoke as we spin our perspective around to show another figure. This of a greasy, dirty, biker looking guy. He's sitting up against the wall, his legs contorted in a manner that gives the appearance that they have been broken. His face is covered in blood and his mouth gaped open as he's trying to catch his breath. His eyes are black as the voids of space as a weak and contorted voice speaks back.
“Go to helllllll”
“No tanks mon amie, I's been before.”
The squatting figure stands back up and takes another drag off his cigarette. He tosses the smoke down at his feet and steps on it extinguishing the only real light in the alley. In the darkness we can hear his voice once more though.
“Dey are a putrid infection, but I's de cure. Vade Ad Deum”
Suddenly two bright flashes accompanied by two loud booming like noises come from the alley. Then a few seconds later from the alley comes the figure. Now that he's out in the open and mostly illuminated by the neon we can see he stands a little over six foot tall. He's dressed in black cowboy style boots with metal tips on the front. We can't make out the design on the metal but we can tell there is something etched into it. He's wearing black jeans with a dark purple button up shirt. We watch as he adjusts the sleeves of the shirt. His hair is long and slightly unkempt, dark brown in hue.
He pulls from his chest pocket a pack of camels. He takes out another cigarette and screws it between his lips. Taking a silver colored zippo from his hip pocket he lights it up and takes another long drag. The smoke slowly filtering up into the night sky. As he starts to make his way to one of the nearby motorcycles we can hear the faint tones of CCR's “born on the bayou” playing. As the figure pulls a cell phone out of his back pocket he continues to get onto the motorcycle.
“'Ello? Ah 'Ames how good of yews to call. To what do I's owe dis here pleasure?.....A favor?”
We hear the figure chuckle for a moment.
“We's both know I don't do favors...at least not for free. What yews need of ole Tobias?”........Sheew, yew sure believe in askin for de big favors. Yew know, most peoples dey call, dey chat, dey bullshit around. Deen afta a while dey ask for dey big favors. But not yew 'ames, yew just jump right on into de deep end, no?”
The figure, self identified at this point as a man named Tobias adjusts himself on the motorcycle as he listens for a few moments to the voice of “James” on the other end.
“No, no, no, don't be getting ya jimmies all rustled dere 'ames, I didn't say no. I just said dat it was a tall order. So dere for, yews know, its gonna be expensive like. So if'n yews willin to pay, yew know Tobias is willin to play.......Dat amount sound like a good down payment. We goes with dat for now, but I hopes yew know what ya getting into mon amie. Once I do dis, dere aint no turnin back......Oui, I's already on dey way.”
Tobias hangs up the phone and slips it back into his pocket before starting up the motorcycle and heads down the road as we fade to black.
Our scene reopens quite some time later, in an unknown city, we’re shown a balcony overlooking a city skyline. Standing leaning up against the railing we see the man now known as Tobias. He’s dressed in a white terry style robe and his hair looks freshly washed and pulled back into a quick ponytail. His face looks recently shaven with a couple pieces of toilet paper sticking to his skin covering nicks from the razor. Hanging from his lips is a cigarette that is already half gone by the time of our arrival. Over his shoulder we can see a large glass door that leads into what looks to be a hotel room. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath sighing slowly and letting out a small groan.
“Why yews get into dis Tobias, like we’s don’t got enough on our plate. I know we’s never been one to turn down money, especially of de easy kind. Howeva we have more impordant tings dan helping ‘ames. We don’t even miss de wrasslin, we damn sure don’t miss de constant ache and pain dat come along witit.”
Tobias stretches leaning back with his arms up above his head cracking his knuckles. He takes his cigarette and tosses it into the nearby ashtray before rolling his neck.
“Well its as dey say, too late now. ‘Ames pulled his strings and already got me into the company. ‘cordin to his message I’s already got a match and every ting. Must of felt I would be a bit rusty as he slipped me into a tag team match. Chris St. ‘Ames dis ‘Immy Allen ain’t, howeva, from what I’s heard he not bad. A bit reckless and fan of de jumpy moves. Bit of de ole striker too. Dat can be good or bad for me.”
Tobias walks over to a small table sitting by the door to go back into the hotel. Sitting on the table is his pack of smokes as well as his cellphone. There is also a tumbler with ice in it, a small glass, and a bottle of brown liquid. Tobias grabs the bottle and pulls the cork out of it. He gives it a little sniff and smirks to himself. Grabbing a couple of pieces of ice from the tumbler he drops it into the glass before pouring the liquid over the ice til it’s about a third of the way full. He does the bottle back up and sits it down. He grabs his pack of camels and pulls out a cigarette. He looks around the table and doesn’t see his lighter.
“Sheet, must have it somewhere. I didn’t light de last one inside.”
Tobias looks around the table for a moment as he places his hands on his hips, he closes his eyes and sighs slightly. Reaching into one of the small pockets in the robe on his right hip and pulling out his zippo.
“De lack of sleep must be gettin to me.”
He lights up another cigarette and takes his glass back to the railing overlooking the city. He sips on his bourbon, whiskey, something along those lines we’re sure. Whatever it was it helped numb away the pain.
“Gettin back to de moment at hand. “Immy can be of use or a hindrance depending on how dat style of his goes. Not to mention I don’t tink ‘ames got him on de team as it were yet. Knowin ‘ames, he’ll make him an offer. Hope de fella plays ball, I’d hate to collect a fee for him as well. Well, not really, but extra effort is not always worth it.”
Tobias sips away at his glass running things through his brain, calculating and deducing.
“I really wish he’d of done more in de way of explainin to me what dese here forsaken are. Sound like de peoples back in high school wit de big ‘eans and spikey collars. Lord I hope dey not like dat, people like dat, dey got a screw loose. One too many shots of dat dere koolaid ya know what I means. Oh well, Dorian, Shadow, we just need to add captain nemo, ‘eckyle and hyde to finish de whole merry league.”
Tobias chuckles to himself, at least he found his jokes funny. He finishes off his glass and takes a final drag off his cigarette. He heads back over to the table and sits the glass down and puts the butt out in the ashtray. He opens up the door to his hotel room and heads inside calling it a night. There was plenty more to do and very little time to get it done.
Our scene opens a couple days later, it’s almost time for the show. You can hear in the distance the sound of fans cheering as they see different trucks and cars pull into the arena area. Meanwhile in the backstage area we see Tobias in the craft services area. Dressed in only a pair of jeans and boots he’s already got his wrists taped and his hair pulled back. He’s walking along the food looking for something to eat. However as he gazes at the items he just sort of looks disappointed.
“No shrimp, no gumbo, no beans with rice, how dey expect me’s to eat? Dis here a travesty I tells yew.”
While debating on what items would be worth the effort of choking down the most likely bland flavor Tobias notices a figure walking by. He recognizes it as his partner for later on in the evening. Quickly Tobias grabs a couple of pieces of chicken and tosses it on his plate before jogging off after Jimmy Allen. Anxious to discuss strategy and a game plan for the evening. However as he is just about to get up to him someone comes from a side area and slams right into Tobias sending the Cajun stepping back and his food nearly falling to the floor. Only stopped by a quick reflex snatch by Mr. Devereaux. Tobias immediately makes a face as the searing hot chicken is now in his bare hand he tosses it back and forth until finally reaching down and grabbing his plate off the ground and tossing the chicken onto it.
“C’est sa Couillon”
Tobias looks up only to see the ever smirking face of one James Milenko. Tobias expression hardens even more.
“Wha de ‘ell mon amie yews bout to waste de grub.”
“I assure you Tobias, they have more.”
“Not de point bibitte”
“Dick, I calls yew a dick, ya dick.”
“I’ve been called worse, by you as a matter of fact.”
“Well yew is paying me at de moment so, I’s tone it down dis time. To wha do I owes dis esteem pleasure Mr. Meeleenkoooo”
“Do you really have to draw my name out like that?”
Tobias just smirks and shakes his head no. He picks back up a piece of his chicken and takes a bite out of it.
“What can’t an old friend just stop to say hello?”
“Not when it’s yew, no”
“Fine, right to business then. I’ve made arrangements for later on tonight. You remember the plan correct? I’d hate for your fee to be docked for you messing tonight up for me.”
“I remembers de plan mon amie, what I need to do though is go makes a plan wit me partna for de night. Which I was on de way to do before yews so rudely interupted.”
“Don’t worry about the people from tonight, it’s a former alcoholic bum and some two bit muscle. They are so far beneath me that is seems a waste to spend money on tonights festivities. I mean they have been struggling with the glass ceiling for a bit now. They don’t even realize what is coming for them and how devastating it’ll be. They believe they have won a few rounds, however as always, I’m focused on the long game.”
“If’n dey so far beneath yews, den why you spending de money for de likes of Ole Tobias, dey is cheaper out dere.”
“Yes and you know exactly why I need you involved in all of this. So don’t play coy with me Cajun. I’m not one of your little rackets down in the swamp.”
“Relax ‘ames, I know why yews need me around, and I will do de work as planned. Now if’n yews will excuse me. I got some eatin and some plannin to do of me own.”
“Yeah, Yeah, go on.”
Tobias smirks at James for a moment before extending his hand to shake it goodbye. James out of reflex shakes it not remembering it’s covered in chicken grease from Tobias’ meal. James Milenko’s face immediately sours as Tobias chuckles and heads on down the hall to catch up with Jimmy Allen. As he disappears down the hall we just watch James Milenko wipe the grease off on his blazer with a look of utter disgust as the scene fades to black.