Signal Panic, Inc. presents
Action Saxton
in
"Princes of The Universe"
[size=-2]or[/size]
"How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Badass"
[size=-2]or[/size]
"Kingdom Come of Heaven"
[size=-2]or[/size]
"Breakin' 42: Boogaloos Everywhere"
[size=-3]In Memory of "Macho Man" Randy Savage (1952 - 2011)[/size]
All appears to be well in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese. Kids are frolicking through the multi-colored balls as they enjoy Timmy’s 4th birthday party, spending the energy that a recent round of crappy pizza, Mr. Pibb, and birthday cake afforded them. Arcade machines featuring games that haven't been in vogue since the Lincoln administration line the walls, ready to eat tokens and spit out two tickets for every 500,000 points earned.
A pair of youngsters is splashing around in the middle of the ball pit, minding their own business. Suddenly, the pit starts to rumble, the colored balls moving around in violent formation, similar to a crowd watching an Armando Paradyse match. The terrified children make their way to the exit, but struggle to move through the sea of colorful plastic balls. The last child barely makes it out, diving through the exit as Action Saxton bursts upwards from the ball pit like a rocket, drenched in sweat, but ready to rumble.
Saxton barely has any time to recover when he hears a loud “KOWABUNGA!” echo through the ball pit. He looks frantically for his target, but he’s nowhere to be found...until Saboteur shoots out of the slide feet first, slamming into Action Saxton's manly face and sending him backwards into the colorful sea of recycled plastic. Saboteur stands above his fallen foe, hands on hips.
"Foolish Saxton!" he exclaims, his voice echoing throughout the Chuck E. Cheese. "Nobody can destroy the power of SaboWHOA!"
Before Saboteur can finish gloating, a pair of large black arms reaches from within the depths of the ball pit and drags Saboteur under. Balls are flying everywhere, red and black and orange and plaid and green and blue and indigo and violet and chocolate and mauve and macaroni & cheese. The two bodies slam all around the thick netting that surrounds the ball pit, neither man giving an inch. The plastic is flying in great bursts as the two wrestle, with the Badass Brother coming out on top. His hands are wrapped around Saboteur's neck as he glares at the mouthy mercenary.
"Say what you said about my momma again, I dare you!" Saxton barks, his grip tightening.
"Can’t… speak!" squeaks Saboteur, his feet kicking uselessly, sending more balls flying around. One foot connects with Saxton's abdomen, and with a loud "Oof!" the big man releases Saboteur. The two fall backwards, crashing into the netting and sinking into the plastic sea, both very out of breath. Action Saxton is the first to find his voice.
"I think..." he pants, "I'm going to have to call a TO on this one."
"What!?" the superhero exclaims. "The contract we drew up specifically states that you can only use one timeout per day, and you already called yours when I locked you in the washing machine at the laundry mat!"
Saboteur reaches into his spandex and throws a crumpled up piece of paper at Saxton. "Go ahead, read it!"
Saxton uncrumples the paper and rolls his eyes.
"Sucka, this is a picture of you riding a dinosaur! Last I checked, that ain’t no contract! And if I remember correctly, I locked you in the dryer."
Saboteur looks at Saxton, realization dawning on his mask area.
"No wonder my costume feels extra tight today…"
He shakes his head.
"Alright, I think we can both agree that we need a break. We’ve been fighting for 83 hours straight!"
"Are you stupid, sucka? We crossed Time Zones so we’ve really been fighting 84 hours straight!"
"You want to bet, jerk?!"
Saboteur starts throwing balls at Saxton, and Saxton answer by throwing balls back. The two keep up the childish act for a few moments, both scoring heavy plastic shots before they both exhaust themselves again.
"Look, sucka," says Saxton, the effects of the 83 or possibly 84 hour fight clearly taking its toll on the badass brother. "You and I both know that we have a match at Kingdom Come. If you want a fight, let's settle it in the ring."
Saboteur nods.
"Okay... so we finish this... at Kingdom Come. No more fighting before hand. Not... a single... punch."
The two wade towards the ballpit's exit, neither wanting to take their eyes off of each other. If looks could kill, both men would be three-time zombies by now. They continue to glare, walking in perfect rhythm as they exit the ballpit and sidestep towards the exit of Chuck E. Cheese. A portly youngster in a fedora trips over his cape to get out of their way, and neither man is phased when an old woman passes in between the two, just under their unblinking gaze.
They make it to the doors, which open automatically, basking the pair in sunlight. Still keeping his eyes on Saboteur, Action Saxton walks to his vintage white 1960 Cadillac Coupe DeVille and hops inside, stepping on the gas and speeding down the road until Saboteur is out of sight.
---
Several days later, Marceline is hard at work in the Paper Gangster. Customers sit in the booths, enjoying cups of coffee and standard diner fare. In fact, there are a few more customers than usual for this time of the week. As she pours coffee into two cups for The Kid and his girl, she sighs and looks out of the window. The night is black, the stars washed out by the neon lights of the city and the clouds overhead. A light rain falls.
"Something up, Marceline?"
The Kid's voice breaks through her preoccupied mind. With a start, she looks at the still-steaming mugs of coffee and back at The Kid. Though his eyes are hidden by his sunglasses like they always are, his expression is that of concern. Even the girl's normally stony expression looks somewhat soft as she takes the coffee that Marceline hands her.
"Sorry," she sighs. "Just waiting for someone."
She jumps as a bell rings, signaling the opening of a door. She looks around eagerly, only to slump slightly when she sees who has come in.
"Hey there, babe," the rocker says, pulling up a barstool. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you weren't all that happy to see me."
Marceline turns away, towards the sink. Almost unconsciously she starts rearranging glasses and bottles.
"I'm sorry, Max," Marceline replies, setting a bottle of malt liquor to the side. "He's supposed to be coming today. You know how it is."
Max nods sagely. "I know what it can be like to be away from a friend for long periods of time. Anticipation can be deadly, babe."
Marceline nods before sighing in frustration and continues rearranging glasses, checking her watch at intervals that grow shorter and shorter each time. More people shuffle in, and more people shuffle out. None of them are the one she wants to see.
"Busy night," remarks The Kid.
"That it is," Marceline responds. She looks over at B, hard at work serving food to hungry customers and taking orders. "He said he'd be here around now..."
"How long's it been since you last saw him?"
Marceline massages the back of her neck.
"Not that long, but I worry about him. The business with Sab, and some other stuff going on- You know about Sab, right?"
The Kid, a big WZCW fan, nods. Max has stopped drinking his whiskey and is now listening intently.
"I'm just afraid he'll do something stupid. And I just...want to talk to him."
"He'll be fine, babe," Max says, soothingly. "He'll be here soon."
"Yeah, I'm sure he-"
There is a loud crash as the door flies open and rebounds off of the adjacent wall. Marceline's sentence is cut off as the entire diner falls silent and turns to see who the newest patron is. There is no mistaking the large and muscular frame, despite the rain-soaked clothes and dripping afro.
"Sax!" Marceline exclaims, relief flooding her. She rushes to pour him a glass of the finest malt liquor as he squelches onto a stool. "Sax, where the hell have you been? You look a mess!"
Action Saxton gulps down the drink before responding.
"Training."
"You're soaking wet," Marceline persists. "You look like something's punched you straight in the brain. Your hair's a bird's nest. Why are you-"
She's silenced by the thud of Action Saxton's fist striking the bar. He turns to her, anger taking over his features.
"Why?" he barks. "I'll tell you why! I have to defeat that sucka Saboteur! He took everything from me! He's the reason I never made it into the world championship match at Unscripted! He's the sucka who cost me my shot at the tag team championships! He stabbed me in the back and used me to get ahead, and I am sick of it!"
Marceline looks a little shaken as Action Saxton continues his rant, oblivious to the restaurant full of customers sneaking glances in his direction.
"When I met that sucka I thought I had met a kindred spirit, someone I could team with, someone who I could talk to. Someone who understood. But now I'm the one who understands, understands that he's nothing but a no-good punk-ass jive-ass sucka who needs to shut the hell up!"
Marceline turns to her array of bottles as Action Saxton continues.
"Do you know what he said to me? What he said about me? Do you know that he's been nothing but a dark shadow my whole career, sabotaging everything I do! I hate him, I've always hated him! What the hell has he ever done for me?"
"He's been a friend."
She speaks so softly that it's almost inaudible. In fact, if Action Saxton hadn't been mid-breath, he may not have heard it. It's enough to give him pause - no, more than that. Enough to cause him to stop ranting completely. He stares at Marceline's back, waiting. After a few moments, she sighs and turns around.
"He hasn't always been some dark shadow, Sax," she says, gently. "You used to come in here and tell me about all the good times you were having together."
"I don't remember any."
"The time in Canada?"
"Nothin' special."
"The psych experiment?"
"I had to save his fool ass or else he would have gotten hurt."
"The time you showed him around Scott's Bottom just to try and cheer him up?"
"I-"
Action Saxton exhales, slowly, and slumps in his seat. The fight has left him.
"Yeah, okay. I had a lot of good times with that sucka."
Marceline slides another drink to him. "Damn right you did. I could tell just by the way you told me about him that you two were friends - you even called him your brother at points. I haven't heard you say that about anyone since Kung-Fu Jones."
"Yeah," interjects The Kid. "C'mon, I watched you guys on TV. You were having a blast whenever you worked together."
Action Saxton starts to smile. "Maybe I was."
He downs his second drink, putting the glass down a little hard.
"Okay, suckas, you're right. Maybe I did enjoy myself. But that sucka is too far gone for some namby-pamby apology to change his mind. And besides, that just ain't the Action Saxton way. We have a match at Kingdom Come, one of the biggest of my career, of his career, one of the biggest matches on the damn card!"
"Then maybe you should slap some sense into him."
It's Max's turn to speak up. He sips his drink and leans on the counter, turning towards Action Saxton.
"Kid, I've been around the block. Wrestling, touring, living my life. In the ring and out, I've seen friendships come and go, people turn on another out of petty spite, teams break up for one reason or another. One thing I have noticed is that very few relationships are so broken they can't be repaired."
He takes another gulp of his drink.
"Your friend seems to have caught a case of the crazy, but knock him around a bit and he'll come around to your side."
Max lets out a throaty chuckle. The Kid looks a little unnerved, but Marceline smiles.
"He's right, Sax," she says. "You and Sab were great together, and if you can show him that by having a great match, maybe you two could team up."
"Woman, everyone works well with Action S-"
"No, they don't," Marceline forcefully replies. "Remember the blonde-haired guy? Or Armando Paradyse?"
Action Saxton shudders.
"Yeah, Marce, I remember."
"What you and Sab had was something special. Chemistry. Kind of like you and me. You know, friends. Think about it, do you think your fans that you always tell me you work for want to see Action Saxton alone?"
"Of course they do! I'm always alone in my fil-"
"You're not!" exclaims Marceline. "It takes more than one man to make a good movie and you need more than just yourself to have a good life! Even when we were kids, you had me. And think of everyone else you've had."
Action Saxton looks to the left to see Max downing the rest of his drink and lazily nodding. To his right, The Kid and his girl are doing the same. In his mind, he starts to go through the list of everyone he's met, everyone who's ever helped him out in his adventures - in his life. The suave Vegas-born playboy who taught him how to live the high-life. The director who gave him his big break. The red-haired girl who always writes to him after every WZCW show. Kung Fu Jones. The ninja he met on the set of Ring of Treachery. The WZCW superstars he's met and worked with and talked to during his time in the company. And of course, Marceline. His best friend.
She smiles and nods as Action Saxton straightens up. "Now you get it."
"Damn right," he says, chuckling. "I get it."
"We're in your corner, Sax. You'll always be our hero."
Action Saxton stands up, and with a hint of his old swagger, strikes a pose.
"I know you and all the fans want to see Action Saxton and Saboteur. But first and foremost y'all need to see Action Saxton versus Saboteur. At Kingdom Come, I'm going to kick his ass all over the arena. I'll flip his brain upside-down if I have to! And once I have smacked some sense into him and he hears the cheers of the adoring fans and I hear the cheers of the adoring fans maybe, just maybe he'll stop being a damn fool and maybe we can team up again."
He points at Max, Marceline, and The Kid. The entire diner is on its feet in awe.
"Listen up, suckas! I know that you, and you, and you, and the whole world will be cheering for Action Saxton when it comes time for Kingdom Come, and dammit I don't blame you! I am the biggest, the baddest, the best superstar in WZCW! And me and Saboteur and going to have the hardest-hitting, the fastest-paced, the flashiest, and the best damn match in Kingdom Come history! And once it's all over, you know I will be standing with my hand held high. But I won't be alone.
Because dammit, that's just the Action Saxton way. Now can you dig that?"
And every customer bursts into cheers and starts chanting Action Saxton's name as he struts out of the door, ready for Kingdom Come.
