Post by Applesauce on Apr 19, 2022 21:20:16 GMT -5
OFF-CAM
VERO BEACH, FL
TRIVIAL PURSUIT
“All right, first question everyone.” Says the hipster host at Merv’s Burger Joint and Pub. In his right hand, he holds a cheap microphone and in his left hand, he holds a stack of notecards. “Ray Charles had this state on his mind. What is its Capital?”
“I know this answer. We got this.” Says the orange haired vixen known as Riley Heart. She’s wearing a black spaghetti-string tank top and an expensive looking necklace. Her hair and make-up looking on-point. The Level Up Rookie eagerly scribbles a word on an 8.5 x 11 dry erase board without consulting her partner. She puts it face down and waits to show off her/their answer. She winks at her trivia partner, the Bull of the North, Buster Gloves. He’s wearing a black polo t-shirt with the letter ‘CAPC’ over the right breast and sipping on a sweet tea and picking at a plate of nachos. Riley gulps her orange crush, her third one of the night.
“Ok time’s up. Let’s see those answers.” Says the host behind an ironic mustache and pathetic man-bun. You can tell this guy reeks of artisanal soaps purchased on Etsy.
With both hands above her head, Riley throws up her answer with enthusiasm.
“The answer is Atlanta.” Says the host. “That’s one point for Alfred Inchcock. One point for Quiz in My Pants. One point for The Wuhan Clan. One point for The Wyld Stallions. One point for Scoregasm. One point for E=MC Hammer. One point for Waluigi Master Race. One point for Squall’s Balls. And one point for Bonerchamp. Looks like every team got that one correct.”
“Nice job.” Admits Buster.
“I’m from Georgia.” Riley announces with pride. “I know the capital of my own state.”
“You know, I was going to say Atlanta, but you seemed so excited, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Smart move, Bubba. I AM the trivia master. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”
“Question #2. Do we have any wrestling fans in the house tonight?”
“Woo!” shouts Riley as she raises her glass in the air.
“There you go. This one should be a squash. What is the term used for when a wrestler performs a move incorrectly?”
“I’m very familiar with this one. Haha” Giggles Riley to herself as she scribbles the word ‘BOTCH!’ on her dry erase board.
“Tell me about it.” Ribs Buster as he chuckles to himself.
“Don’t be an *sshole. I might have to punch you in the nose again.” Apparently, it’s ok for Riley to make fun of herself, but not ok for anyone else to do it.
Buster fakes a smile. Then, when Riley looks away, he itches the scab on the bridge of his nose. The truth is that Riley had rocked Buster with a cheap shot during their match at EXP 22. He planned to offer a handshake and then have a technical wrestling match, but a punch to the face has a way of throwing plans out the window. His nose wasn’t broken, but it had been broken enough times in the past that it didn’t take much to get the blood flowing. Riley really had him in trouble in that match, but technique won the day and Buster put another hash in the win column. It was a win/win. Buster won the match, and Riley won the crowd. She didn’t botch anything that night.
“Boards up. The answer is, botch.” Says the host, who looks like he styles his mustache with a wooden comb. “Looks like only 5 teams picked up a point in that one.”
Riley happily wiped the answer off of her board as the host awarded a point to her team, which she had named ‘Bonerchamp.’
“Next question. If you’ve got the Midas Touch, you might have the ability to control the elements. What is the chemical symbol for that element?”
“Oh, tartar sauce. Buster, I don’t know this one. Do you?” Riley looks up at Buster with bedroom eyes, begging for him to rescue her.
Buster knew the answer but didn’t want to share it. In fact, he didn’t want to be here at all. He was only here because he lost a bet. Before EXP 22, they had bet that if Riley won the match, or if Buster used any strikes, they would date. The details beyond that weren’t clear, but he assumed it would be a one-time thing. Besides, he was so confident that he didn’t even consider that he might lose. But things didn’t go as planned, and he lost the bet after smashing Riley in the face with an elbow strike. The date was his punishment. He felt defeated when he picked her up from her hotel that night. He didn’t want to impress her. He just wanted to get the night over with. He lied and said, “I have no clue. I failed chemistry class in high school.”
“I’m just jerking your chain, cutie.” She says. “I know the answer. You really should pick up a book once in a while.” She writes the letter ‘Au’ on the dry erase board before finishing off her drink, and ordering two more.
“Boards up. The answer is A…U….” The host counts up the correct answers from around the room. “Great job. Looks like 8 correct answers there.”
45 minutes later…
“With 9 questions down let’s take a look at the leader board. In third place we have team ‘Quiz in my Pants’ with 7 points. In second place we have team ‘Scoregasm’ with 8 points. And in first place we have ‘Bonerchamp’ with a perfect 9 for 9. This final round is just for the top 3 teams. Are you ready?”
Riley is hammered drunk. She’s had about 6 Orange Crushes, and that’s on top of whatever she had before being picked up. She was getting sloppy and engaging in physical contact with Buster by touching his hand and shoulder. Her intentions were pretty clear. “Lips that touch liquor, touch other lips quicker!” she says as drink number 7 shows up. Buster was sober as a judge. He had been for over 5 years. And he was committed to helping Riley have a good night and get home safe. Even in an inebriated state, Riley Heart proved to be the queen of useless knowledge. If she went 10 for 10, they’d have to come back to defend their title and drink on a free bar tab. He did not want those things.
“Final question. This one is worth 2 points. I hope everyone was paying attention during Algebra class. The question is simple. We’re going to reveal a problem on the board. Solve for X.” The host flips over the scoreboard revealing a math equation on the reverse side.
Riley takes a look at the board then rest her forehead on her palm in defeat. “I was told there would be no math.” Says the wild child. “I am too drunk for this. But I’ll tell you what Bull of the North, if you can figure out this f*cking SAT question, I’ll show you one of my boobs. I even let you pick which one.”
Buster looks at the math problem on the board. '5x + 12 = 7x + 2x - 32'. He was good at math, but it had been a while. He looked at the problem for a long time. Doing the math the way his middle school teacher had shown him 20 years ago. He was sure he knew the right answer, but gave Riley the wrong one. “I think it’s 12.”
Riley looked at Buster. Then at the equation. Then at her Orange Crush. “Are you sure it’s 12?” She then tried to spy on the other tables.
“No, not really.”
“F*ck it. Do the thing, Daddy. Bonerchamp forever!” She proclaims, loudly, as she thrusts her half empty glass in the air.
“Answer’s up everybody. Let’s see what we have. We have an ‘11’, ‘an 11’, and a ‘12’… with a question mark. That actual answer is, of course, 11. That means that our winner tonight, with a come behind victory, is team ‘Scoregasm’, with an impressive total of 10 points. Quiz in my Pants and Bonerchamp finish tied in second place with a score of 9.”
Riley doesn’t even acknowledge the loss. Instead she’s rests her hand on her fist and her eyes are closed. She opens one eye. “Buster, take me to bed, or lose me forever.”
“Check please.”
30 Minutes later…
Riley assaults a girl from the other trivia team by giving her a snapmare onto the pavement. Some how, Buster sweet talks his way out of it by signing some autographs and manages to carry Riley away to his car. “Don’t look, you perv!” She yells at him, while peeing next to his tires. Only after some creative negotiation, is he finally able to get her in the assigned seat of his SUV.
Riley takes off her shoes, puts her feet on the dashboard, and sticks her phone inside her bra. The terrible directions she gives to get to her posh suite at the Vero Beach Hotel are good enough. But not before Buster spends 15 minutes going the wrong direction. Riley doesn’t seem to care. She’s busy searching radio channels for 'her song'. Some trashy pop song about how good the female rapper is at fornication. Riley cranks the volume up and begins singing out the window while dancing in her seat. Eyes closed.
Buster tolerates it. And she’s asleep before the song is over.
Once at the hotel, Buster helps Riley out of the car and carries her into the hotel. She’s surprisingly light. For a second, he thinks about how easy it would be to jackknife powerbomb her through a poker table. He chuckles to himself at the mental image while she wraps her arms around his neck and begins purring into his chest. He carries her all the way into the elevator before asking, “What floor?”
“Put me down.” She says before pushing a button for the top floor and digging through her purse for a room key. She laughs to herself as she struggles to find what she’s looking for. Buster tries not to notice her disheveled hair and smeared makeup.
Buster follows her as she walks barefoot down the hall. Veering side to side, running her fingers across the textured wallpaper. At her door, she swipes her key card a couple times, then enters. She leaves the door wide open for Buster to do whatever he wants. He chooses to carry her shoes and jacket into her room to make sure she’s ok. She stops him, points to her couch, and says, “Sit there. I need to use the bathroom, take some pre-work out, and then ride you like a stolen bike.”
She leaves the room and Buster panics. He does not want this. Not like this. Sure, he’s attracted to the girl. Who wouldn’t be? But she’s drunk and it would be wrong this way. Maybe even illegal in her condition. Although, she DID say multiple times that this was what she wanted. And she just DID consent a second time. This is fine… right?
Just then, Buster hears a familiar sound.
<feminine barfing>
Music to his ears. It meant that they weren’t going to sleep together. Buster knocks on the bathroom door.
<more feminine barfing>
“You ok in there?”
“Don’t come in.”
“How about a bottled water, or a towel, or something?”
“Yeh. Ok.”
30 more minutes later…
She finishes dry heaving. Buster had been rubbing her back and holding her hair out of the way the entire time. He empathizes with her. And it’s endearing to see her this way. She’s finally showing her vulnerable side. She looks like she needs someone to care for her. Up this close, without her intense gaze on him, she’s beautiful. Her hair, bright, but soft. The piercings in her ears, numerous and deliberate, each a different shape, all metallic and orange. She even has a tattoo behind her ear that he’s never even noticed before.
Buster cleans her up and brings her to her bed. It isn’t too difficult to get her in to some pajamas and under the covers. She tucks them under her chin and mumbles one last thing to Buster before falling asleep. “We can still have sex if you want to.”
He brushes her orange hair back out of her face. “Get some sleep kiddo. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Before Buster heads home, he leaves a hand-written note on Riley’s nightstand, sends her a text message, and turns off lights. Then shuts the front door behind him.
ON-CAM
THE THREE LITTLE TREES
Buster sits on a folding chair in a darkened room. A single spotlight on him as he speaks.
I want to tell you a story. My grandfather told me this story after he took me to church for the first time. I don't go to church anymore, but the story stayed with me.
He told me about a mountain. There were other mountains just like it. Some were taller. Some were richer. But this mountain was the best one.
In the valley below, was a town. Full of people who looked up at the mountain with admiration. They'd wake up in the morning, kiss their families goodbye, and go to work. And every day, they’d look up at the mountain and smile.
On top of that mountain stood three little trees. Let’s call them Ahmya, Chelsea, and Emily. The three little trees had dreams of what they could become.
Ahmya, the first little tree, looked at the stars and said, “I want to be covered with gold and hold precious stones. When people look at me, I want them to be impressed by how beautifully I’ve been carved and think of good fortune. I will be the roundest, most lovely treasure chest in the world!”
Chelsea, the second little tree, looked out at the stream, trickling down the mountain, on its way to the ocean. She said, “I want to travel mighty waters, see many cultures, and carry powerful people. When they look at me, I want them to be impressed by the places I’ve been and the things that I’ve done. I’ll be the strongest ship in the world!”
Emily, the third little tree, looked down into the valley, and into the town. Solemnly she said, “I don’t want to leave the mountain at all. I just want to be here and I want to grow tall. When people look at me, they will look to the skies above, and believe in themselves, so that their dreams can come true. I will be the tallest tree in the world.”
Seasons passed. And the little trees grew tall.
A woodcutter climbed the mountain. He looked at the first tree and said, “This tree is beautiful. It’ll be perfect.” With a swoop of his axe, the first tree fell. Ahmya said, “Now I shall become a chest, I shall be beautiful and hold wonderful treasures.”
The woodcutter returned. He looked at the second tree and said, “This tree is strong, it’ll be perfect.” With a swoop of his axe the second tree fell. Chelsea said “Now I shall become a magnificent ship. I shall be strong and sail many mighty waters!
The woodcutter returned one last time. He carried his axe to the third tree. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to the heavens. But the woodcutter, never even looked up at her. “This tree is here and any tree will do.” With a swoop of his axe, the third tree fell. Emily said nothing, she only cries to herself. For she lost her home on top of the mountain.
The first tree named Ahmya rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a carpenter’s shop, but the carpenter didn’t turn her into a chest, he turned her into a box. She was not covered with gold, nor filled with treasure. She was coated in sawdust, and filled with hay for hungry farm animals.
The second tree named Chelsea smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made that day. Instead, she was hammered and turned into a small fishing boat. She was too weak to sail an ocean, instead she was tied to a pier on a tiny lake.
The third tree named Emily was defeated when she was cut into beams. He left her in a lumberyard and forgot about her there. “What happened?” she wondered. “All I ever wanted was to stay where I was.”
As time passed, three trees nearly forgot their dreams. But destiny had a plan for each of them.
The smooth and sturdy box that once was a tree, became a manger for a young baby. “This crib is beautiful.” The young mother said. And Ahmya knew that she was holding a treasure more valuable than all the gold and jewels in the world.
The small wooden boat that sat on the lake, was taken by a traveler, who soon fell asleep. A mighty storm came and brought terrible winds. The tired man awakened, stood up, stretched out his hand. He said the word 'peace', and the storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And suddenly the second tree knew that she was carrying a man with power unlike any she had ever known.
The third tree was startled when her beams were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as she was carried through an angry crowd. Soldiers nailed a man’s hands to her beams. It felt ugly, and harsh, and cruel. But the sun rose again, and the earth trembled beneath her. The third tree finally understood that love without sacrifice isn't love at all. And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of the love that was born on her beams. That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.
On it's surface, this is just another story from the bible. But if you look closer, there are universal lessons to be learned. The story is about appreciating what you have, and managing expectations, and having patience, and keeping your faith. The next time you feel down because you didn’t get what you want, be happy because something better is coming along. There are good things coming along for Ahmya, Chelsea, and Emily, but not the things they think they want now.
Ahmya’s dreams of championship are coming to an end. Maybe it’s time for her to settle down. Find where her home is. And put her own baby in a manger. The life of a champion isn’t for everyone. And it’s killing her a little bit every day.
Chelsea’s dreams of traveling the world, having every job, and sleeping with every attractive person on the planet are also coming to an end. She’s realizing that she can’t be a gymnast, an adult film star, a musician, and a champion at the same time. Being pulled in so many directions is wearing on her. It cost her the Courage Championship. She needs to pick a passion and stay with it.
Emily’s dreams of finding true love also appear to be unlikely. Duncan Shepard does not want her by his side. The bookers haven’t been kind in giving her matches. And we won’t speak about how I feel about her at this very moment. She needs to stop being so reckless with her heart and take what she wants.
Something better is coming along for each of them. But it won't be coming soon enough.
It’s Buster Gloves and Ahmya versus Chelsea Skye and Emily Simms at EXP 24. Then it’s Buster Gloves versus Ahmya for the Wisdom Title. All three of these pretty little trees have been my allies at one point. But now they stand in my way. Do they see me as another tree? Do they think I’m just like them? That I fight for the same things that they do? They shouldn’t. Because I am no tree growing on their mountain.
I’ll work with Ahmya. I’ll elevate her, compliment her, and help her secure a victory worthy of her title. But after that, she’s just another tree that needs to fall. And I’m just the person to help transition her into to her next phase in life.
The forest is shrinking, Little Trees. I may be made of wood just as you are, but make no mistake, I am no tree like you. I am beautiful and strong and tall, but I have no leaves. I’m the axe brought here to cut you down. And each of you will fall sooner than later. I’m sharper and more cunning than you can imagine. While you chase dreams, I’m sharpening my blade. You’ll feel my bite soon enough.
VERO BEACH, FL
TRIVIAL PURSUIT
“All right, first question everyone.” Says the hipster host at Merv’s Burger Joint and Pub. In his right hand, he holds a cheap microphone and in his left hand, he holds a stack of notecards. “Ray Charles had this state on his mind. What is its Capital?”
“I know this answer. We got this.” Says the orange haired vixen known as Riley Heart. She’s wearing a black spaghetti-string tank top and an expensive looking necklace. Her hair and make-up looking on-point. The Level Up Rookie eagerly scribbles a word on an 8.5 x 11 dry erase board without consulting her partner. She puts it face down and waits to show off her/their answer. She winks at her trivia partner, the Bull of the North, Buster Gloves. He’s wearing a black polo t-shirt with the letter ‘CAPC’ over the right breast and sipping on a sweet tea and picking at a plate of nachos. Riley gulps her orange crush, her third one of the night.
“Ok time’s up. Let’s see those answers.” Says the host behind an ironic mustache and pathetic man-bun. You can tell this guy reeks of artisanal soaps purchased on Etsy.
With both hands above her head, Riley throws up her answer with enthusiasm.
“The answer is Atlanta.” Says the host. “That’s one point for Alfred Inchcock. One point for Quiz in My Pants. One point for The Wuhan Clan. One point for The Wyld Stallions. One point for Scoregasm. One point for E=MC Hammer. One point for Waluigi Master Race. One point for Squall’s Balls. And one point for Bonerchamp. Looks like every team got that one correct.”
“Nice job.” Admits Buster.
“I’m from Georgia.” Riley announces with pride. “I know the capital of my own state.”
“You know, I was going to say Atlanta, but you seemed so excited, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Smart move, Bubba. I AM the trivia master. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”
“Question #2. Do we have any wrestling fans in the house tonight?”
“Woo!” shouts Riley as she raises her glass in the air.
“There you go. This one should be a squash. What is the term used for when a wrestler performs a move incorrectly?”
“I’m very familiar with this one. Haha” Giggles Riley to herself as she scribbles the word ‘BOTCH!’ on her dry erase board.
“Tell me about it.” Ribs Buster as he chuckles to himself.
“Don’t be an *sshole. I might have to punch you in the nose again.” Apparently, it’s ok for Riley to make fun of herself, but not ok for anyone else to do it.
Buster fakes a smile. Then, when Riley looks away, he itches the scab on the bridge of his nose. The truth is that Riley had rocked Buster with a cheap shot during their match at EXP 22. He planned to offer a handshake and then have a technical wrestling match, but a punch to the face has a way of throwing plans out the window. His nose wasn’t broken, but it had been broken enough times in the past that it didn’t take much to get the blood flowing. Riley really had him in trouble in that match, but technique won the day and Buster put another hash in the win column. It was a win/win. Buster won the match, and Riley won the crowd. She didn’t botch anything that night.
“Boards up. The answer is, botch.” Says the host, who looks like he styles his mustache with a wooden comb. “Looks like only 5 teams picked up a point in that one.”
Riley happily wiped the answer off of her board as the host awarded a point to her team, which she had named ‘Bonerchamp.’
“Next question. If you’ve got the Midas Touch, you might have the ability to control the elements. What is the chemical symbol for that element?”
“Oh, tartar sauce. Buster, I don’t know this one. Do you?” Riley looks up at Buster with bedroom eyes, begging for him to rescue her.
Buster knew the answer but didn’t want to share it. In fact, he didn’t want to be here at all. He was only here because he lost a bet. Before EXP 22, they had bet that if Riley won the match, or if Buster used any strikes, they would date. The details beyond that weren’t clear, but he assumed it would be a one-time thing. Besides, he was so confident that he didn’t even consider that he might lose. But things didn’t go as planned, and he lost the bet after smashing Riley in the face with an elbow strike. The date was his punishment. He felt defeated when he picked her up from her hotel that night. He didn’t want to impress her. He just wanted to get the night over with. He lied and said, “I have no clue. I failed chemistry class in high school.”
“I’m just jerking your chain, cutie.” She says. “I know the answer. You really should pick up a book once in a while.” She writes the letter ‘Au’ on the dry erase board before finishing off her drink, and ordering two more.
“Boards up. The answer is A…U….” The host counts up the correct answers from around the room. “Great job. Looks like 8 correct answers there.”
45 minutes later…
“With 9 questions down let’s take a look at the leader board. In third place we have team ‘Quiz in my Pants’ with 7 points. In second place we have team ‘Scoregasm’ with 8 points. And in first place we have ‘Bonerchamp’ with a perfect 9 for 9. This final round is just for the top 3 teams. Are you ready?”
Riley is hammered drunk. She’s had about 6 Orange Crushes, and that’s on top of whatever she had before being picked up. She was getting sloppy and engaging in physical contact with Buster by touching his hand and shoulder. Her intentions were pretty clear. “Lips that touch liquor, touch other lips quicker!” she says as drink number 7 shows up. Buster was sober as a judge. He had been for over 5 years. And he was committed to helping Riley have a good night and get home safe. Even in an inebriated state, Riley Heart proved to be the queen of useless knowledge. If she went 10 for 10, they’d have to come back to defend their title and drink on a free bar tab. He did not want those things.
“Final question. This one is worth 2 points. I hope everyone was paying attention during Algebra class. The question is simple. We’re going to reveal a problem on the board. Solve for X.” The host flips over the scoreboard revealing a math equation on the reverse side.
Riley takes a look at the board then rest her forehead on her palm in defeat. “I was told there would be no math.” Says the wild child. “I am too drunk for this. But I’ll tell you what Bull of the North, if you can figure out this f*cking SAT question, I’ll show you one of my boobs. I even let you pick which one.”
Buster looks at the math problem on the board. '5x + 12 = 7x + 2x - 32'. He was good at math, but it had been a while. He looked at the problem for a long time. Doing the math the way his middle school teacher had shown him 20 years ago. He was sure he knew the right answer, but gave Riley the wrong one. “I think it’s 12.”
Riley looked at Buster. Then at the equation. Then at her Orange Crush. “Are you sure it’s 12?” She then tried to spy on the other tables.
“No, not really.”
“F*ck it. Do the thing, Daddy. Bonerchamp forever!” She proclaims, loudly, as she thrusts her half empty glass in the air.
“Answer’s up everybody. Let’s see what we have. We have an ‘11’, ‘an 11’, and a ‘12’… with a question mark. That actual answer is, of course, 11. That means that our winner tonight, with a come behind victory, is team ‘Scoregasm’, with an impressive total of 10 points. Quiz in my Pants and Bonerchamp finish tied in second place with a score of 9.”
Riley doesn’t even acknowledge the loss. Instead she’s rests her hand on her fist and her eyes are closed. She opens one eye. “Buster, take me to bed, or lose me forever.”
“Check please.”
30 Minutes later…
Riley assaults a girl from the other trivia team by giving her a snapmare onto the pavement. Some how, Buster sweet talks his way out of it by signing some autographs and manages to carry Riley away to his car. “Don’t look, you perv!” She yells at him, while peeing next to his tires. Only after some creative negotiation, is he finally able to get her in the assigned seat of his SUV.
Riley takes off her shoes, puts her feet on the dashboard, and sticks her phone inside her bra. The terrible directions she gives to get to her posh suite at the Vero Beach Hotel are good enough. But not before Buster spends 15 minutes going the wrong direction. Riley doesn’t seem to care. She’s busy searching radio channels for 'her song'. Some trashy pop song about how good the female rapper is at fornication. Riley cranks the volume up and begins singing out the window while dancing in her seat. Eyes closed.
Buster tolerates it. And she’s asleep before the song is over.
Once at the hotel, Buster helps Riley out of the car and carries her into the hotel. She’s surprisingly light. For a second, he thinks about how easy it would be to jackknife powerbomb her through a poker table. He chuckles to himself at the mental image while she wraps her arms around his neck and begins purring into his chest. He carries her all the way into the elevator before asking, “What floor?”
“Put me down.” She says before pushing a button for the top floor and digging through her purse for a room key. She laughs to herself as she struggles to find what she’s looking for. Buster tries not to notice her disheveled hair and smeared makeup.
Buster follows her as she walks barefoot down the hall. Veering side to side, running her fingers across the textured wallpaper. At her door, she swipes her key card a couple times, then enters. She leaves the door wide open for Buster to do whatever he wants. He chooses to carry her shoes and jacket into her room to make sure she’s ok. She stops him, points to her couch, and says, “Sit there. I need to use the bathroom, take some pre-work out, and then ride you like a stolen bike.”
She leaves the room and Buster panics. He does not want this. Not like this. Sure, he’s attracted to the girl. Who wouldn’t be? But she’s drunk and it would be wrong this way. Maybe even illegal in her condition. Although, she DID say multiple times that this was what she wanted. And she just DID consent a second time. This is fine… right?
Just then, Buster hears a familiar sound.
<feminine barfing>
Music to his ears. It meant that they weren’t going to sleep together. Buster knocks on the bathroom door.
<more feminine barfing>
“You ok in there?”
“Don’t come in.”
“How about a bottled water, or a towel, or something?”
“Yeh. Ok.”
30 more minutes later…
She finishes dry heaving. Buster had been rubbing her back and holding her hair out of the way the entire time. He empathizes with her. And it’s endearing to see her this way. She’s finally showing her vulnerable side. She looks like she needs someone to care for her. Up this close, without her intense gaze on him, she’s beautiful. Her hair, bright, but soft. The piercings in her ears, numerous and deliberate, each a different shape, all metallic and orange. She even has a tattoo behind her ear that he’s never even noticed before.
Buster cleans her up and brings her to her bed. It isn’t too difficult to get her in to some pajamas and under the covers. She tucks them under her chin and mumbles one last thing to Buster before falling asleep. “We can still have sex if you want to.”
He brushes her orange hair back out of her face. “Get some sleep kiddo. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Before Buster heads home, he leaves a hand-written note on Riley’s nightstand, sends her a text message, and turns off lights. Then shuts the front door behind him.
ON-CAM
THE THREE LITTLE TREES
Buster sits on a folding chair in a darkened room. A single spotlight on him as he speaks.
I want to tell you a story. My grandfather told me this story after he took me to church for the first time. I don't go to church anymore, but the story stayed with me.
He told me about a mountain. There were other mountains just like it. Some were taller. Some were richer. But this mountain was the best one.
In the valley below, was a town. Full of people who looked up at the mountain with admiration. They'd wake up in the morning, kiss their families goodbye, and go to work. And every day, they’d look up at the mountain and smile.
On top of that mountain stood three little trees. Let’s call them Ahmya, Chelsea, and Emily. The three little trees had dreams of what they could become.
Ahmya, the first little tree, looked at the stars and said, “I want to be covered with gold and hold precious stones. When people look at me, I want them to be impressed by how beautifully I’ve been carved and think of good fortune. I will be the roundest, most lovely treasure chest in the world!”
Chelsea, the second little tree, looked out at the stream, trickling down the mountain, on its way to the ocean. She said, “I want to travel mighty waters, see many cultures, and carry powerful people. When they look at me, I want them to be impressed by the places I’ve been and the things that I’ve done. I’ll be the strongest ship in the world!”
Emily, the third little tree, looked down into the valley, and into the town. Solemnly she said, “I don’t want to leave the mountain at all. I just want to be here and I want to grow tall. When people look at me, they will look to the skies above, and believe in themselves, so that their dreams can come true. I will be the tallest tree in the world.”
Seasons passed. And the little trees grew tall.
A woodcutter climbed the mountain. He looked at the first tree and said, “This tree is beautiful. It’ll be perfect.” With a swoop of his axe, the first tree fell. Ahmya said, “Now I shall become a chest, I shall be beautiful and hold wonderful treasures.”
The woodcutter returned. He looked at the second tree and said, “This tree is strong, it’ll be perfect.” With a swoop of his axe the second tree fell. Chelsea said “Now I shall become a magnificent ship. I shall be strong and sail many mighty waters!
The woodcutter returned one last time. He carried his axe to the third tree. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to the heavens. But the woodcutter, never even looked up at her. “This tree is here and any tree will do.” With a swoop of his axe, the third tree fell. Emily said nothing, she only cries to herself. For she lost her home on top of the mountain.
The first tree named Ahmya rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a carpenter’s shop, but the carpenter didn’t turn her into a chest, he turned her into a box. She was not covered with gold, nor filled with treasure. She was coated in sawdust, and filled with hay for hungry farm animals.
The second tree named Chelsea smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made that day. Instead, she was hammered and turned into a small fishing boat. She was too weak to sail an ocean, instead she was tied to a pier on a tiny lake.
The third tree named Emily was defeated when she was cut into beams. He left her in a lumberyard and forgot about her there. “What happened?” she wondered. “All I ever wanted was to stay where I was.”
As time passed, three trees nearly forgot their dreams. But destiny had a plan for each of them.
The smooth and sturdy box that once was a tree, became a manger for a young baby. “This crib is beautiful.” The young mother said. And Ahmya knew that she was holding a treasure more valuable than all the gold and jewels in the world.
The small wooden boat that sat on the lake, was taken by a traveler, who soon fell asleep. A mighty storm came and brought terrible winds. The tired man awakened, stood up, stretched out his hand. He said the word 'peace', and the storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And suddenly the second tree knew that she was carrying a man with power unlike any she had ever known.
The third tree was startled when her beams were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as she was carried through an angry crowd. Soldiers nailed a man’s hands to her beams. It felt ugly, and harsh, and cruel. But the sun rose again, and the earth trembled beneath her. The third tree finally understood that love without sacrifice isn't love at all. And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of the love that was born on her beams. That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.
On it's surface, this is just another story from the bible. But if you look closer, there are universal lessons to be learned. The story is about appreciating what you have, and managing expectations, and having patience, and keeping your faith. The next time you feel down because you didn’t get what you want, be happy because something better is coming along. There are good things coming along for Ahmya, Chelsea, and Emily, but not the things they think they want now.
Ahmya’s dreams of championship are coming to an end. Maybe it’s time for her to settle down. Find where her home is. And put her own baby in a manger. The life of a champion isn’t for everyone. And it’s killing her a little bit every day.
Chelsea’s dreams of traveling the world, having every job, and sleeping with every attractive person on the planet are also coming to an end. She’s realizing that she can’t be a gymnast, an adult film star, a musician, and a champion at the same time. Being pulled in so many directions is wearing on her. It cost her the Courage Championship. She needs to pick a passion and stay with it.
Emily’s dreams of finding true love also appear to be unlikely. Duncan Shepard does not want her by his side. The bookers haven’t been kind in giving her matches. And we won’t speak about how I feel about her at this very moment. She needs to stop being so reckless with her heart and take what she wants.
Something better is coming along for each of them. But it won't be coming soon enough.
It’s Buster Gloves and Ahmya versus Chelsea Skye and Emily Simms at EXP 24. Then it’s Buster Gloves versus Ahmya for the Wisdom Title. All three of these pretty little trees have been my allies at one point. But now they stand in my way. Do they see me as another tree? Do they think I’m just like them? That I fight for the same things that they do? They shouldn’t. Because I am no tree growing on their mountain.
I’ll work with Ahmya. I’ll elevate her, compliment her, and help her secure a victory worthy of her title. But after that, she’s just another tree that needs to fall. And I’m just the person to help transition her into to her next phase in life.
The forest is shrinking, Little Trees. I may be made of wood just as you are, but make no mistake, I am no tree like you. I am beautiful and strong and tall, but I have no leaves. I’m the axe brought here to cut you down. And each of you will fall sooner than later. I’m sharper and more cunning than you can imagine. While you chase dreams, I’m sharpening my blade. You’ll feel my bite soon enough.
