The scene opens with Blade in his locker room joined by Chuck Myles. Myles is sitting on the couch, leaning forward. Blade is pacing back and forth on the other side of the coffee table. Blade is smoking faster than hes used to as he tries to comprehend the information hes been told by Myles. Blade stops and turns to Myles and asks the question hes already asked three times.
Blade: You want me to see a psychiatrist?
Myles gives a solemn nod and Blade continues pacing. He takes a few more drags off his dying cigarette. He looks out the window, staring out at the buildings and people scattered around the city he stays looking out the window as he talks.
Blade: You people... Youre unbelievable.
He turns around and shows an expression of utmost rage on his face. Myles looks fearful as Blade storms towards Myles and leans forward so that their faces are inches apart. Blade stares into Myles eyes and emphasises every letter of every word.
Blade: Im asked to make an impact. I do it emphatically. Week in, week out, I deliver so you people can make your money and I can feel like Ive earned that title shot that I shouldnt have had to earn. And even though I'm doing what you say better than you could've dreamed, you're still fighting me every step of the way for reasons I cannot begin to guess...
Blades voice falls to barely a whisper now, but the rage still flares in his eyes.
Blade: I deliver everything you ask of me. You tell me to keep going as I become the most hated man in the locker room, perceived as a dick and a coward. I do stuff that is shocking everyone that watches... And now, because whoever is at the top is telling you Im out of control and I need help, youre telling me Im going to therapy? Youre a coward. You and Bateman are both cowards...
Myles: Blade... Please.... Just.
Blade suddenly straightens up and smirks, his tone suddenly become light and airy.
Blade: On second thoughts, Ill do it! Itll be fun.
Myles looks shocked for a moment, before shaking his head.
Myles: And you actually wonder why were sending you see a psychiatrist? Youre insane!
Blade lets out a heavy sigh and puts out his cigarette before sitting down next to Myles, yet not looking at him.
Blade: Its clear that you were never a wrestler in your day. Im not really insane, this just what we have to do to get to the top. Do you think Baez is really that insane? Do you think Barbosa is really that insane? Okay, bad example. But what you call insane is simply a mixture of psychology and consistency. Im quite a normal person, but I live in a world where standing out means everything and being slightly deranged is more of a help than a hindrance. Me, Ive been going the extra mile for the last month and a half, trying to dig deep and fulfil my potential for mental warfare. And Ive done very well. Christopher Beckford, meanwhile is the most boring man in this company. He could dip his finger into any flavour of ice cream and it would suddenly become vanilla. But look, just because of his interactions with me, a slightly derailed guy, he has become infinitely more interesting. My point is, insanity isnt such a bad thing, so maybe you shouldnt be so determined for me to get help. Or rather, your bosses shouldnt be so determined for me to get help. Youre just the puppet in all this.
Myles: Enough! I may answer to some people, but I still have the power to fire your ass, so show some respect.
Blade sighs a weary apology before lighting up again.
Myles: Anyway, I better go, someones coming to interview you shortly.
Blade: Hooray.
Myles walks out the door, closing it behind him. Blade sits on the couch for a few moments, getting lost in thoughts once again, the same thoughts that have been bouncing around in his skull for weeks now; the thoughts of winning the EurAsian championship. But now his thoughts have become invaded by what the psychiatrist might ask him. He shakes his head and comes back to reality before putting out his cigarette. He stands up and grabs his weights, about to start a work out, but the door knocks. Blade opens the door and its Johnny Klamour behind it.
Klamour: Good afternoon. Im here for the interview.
Blade: Oh, I see. Come in.
Klamour walks into the room and instantly makes himself at home, pouring himself a glass of Blades vodka and sitting himself down on the couch.
Klamour: I know youre disappointed; you and Becky are like gal pals or whatever. But I assure you, Im far better.
Blade: Im sure. And yes, you can have a glass of vodka.
Klamour: Oh yes, thanks for this. Anyway, sit down and lets get this over with. Unless this is quality vodka, in which case Ill be taking my time. First things first, as much as there is to talk about concerning Chris Beckford, your incredible momentum heading towards Kingdom Come is at risk as you face Everest one on one this week. Youve been compared to Everest over your career due to your similar ring styles, what are your thoughts about finally facing him?
Blade: Im glad you brought up that comparison to Everest, because this is a man that is feared by his peers, and adored by his fans. One of the greatest heavyweight champions weve ever see, a masterful technician, skilled talker and the man who is currently on top of the wrestling world. Personally, I think this is a major challenge... Oh, wait, I take that all back because its not 2009. Ever since last years Kingdom Come, Everest has become as harmless as a kitten. A kitten thats had its claws removed. Hell, he lost a feud to USA... I almost feel sorry for him.
Klamour: Even so, you still need some kind of strategy. He might be one of the only guys in this company who can match your technical ability.
Blade: Meh, Ill just kick his cane out from under him and watch him fall over.
Klamour: Hes old, I get it. Clever.
Blade: Thanks. What else have you got for me?
Klamour: Well if youre not going to take the topic of Everest seriously, I suppose we have to talk about Beckford. The way youve been pushing him the last few weeks, do you not fear that hell crack too soon? You want him to be right on the edge at Kingdom Come. If he cracks before then, hell attack you, take you out.
Blade: You think I havent thought about that? Im meticulous, Ive studied Beckford inside and out. Ive learned that he lucked his way into the EurAsian title. Whatever talent he may or may not have, he lost to Reynolds 3 times in a row, and then was in the right place at the right time during the EurAsian match. Ive also learned that Beckford is so white bread he could be used in subway sandwiches. Looking back over his feud with Reynolds, any time he let his emotions come to the surface, they would only stay there for a moment before he swallowed with them back down. To his credit, he can take a lot of emotional and mental torture. He wont even crack at Kingdom Come if I beat him. And thats the way I want it. Do you really think Im stupid enough to mentally push someone who is likely to freak out and smash my skull in with a chair when subjected to mind games? No, Beckfords different. Hell be angry, upset, insecure and unfocused, but he will not be unstable because hes just too boring for that.
Klamour looks at Blade thoughtfully and takes a swig of vodka as Blade flicks the ash off the cigarette and meets Klamours gaze knowingly
Klamour: I must admit, you put forward a compelling argument. But anyone, no matter their mental stability or, for want of a better word, boringness, will snap eventually. I know you know that, I just hope youre prepared.
Blade smirks.
Blade: You underestimate me, Johnny.
Johnny: So do most people these days. With that said, I suppose I only have one question left....
Blades phone suddenly rings from inside his trenchcoat pocket.
Blade: Excuse me.
Klamour nods and Blade takes out his phone. He looks at the name of the incoming caller and looks confused for a moment, but then answers the phone.
Blade: What do you want?
Blade listens for a moment, and his expression slowly changes into one of slight surprise.
Blade: His mother died? Really?
Like jigsaw puzzle pieces, Blades thoughts arrange themselves into a twisted plan and a grin of pure evil spreads across his face.
Blade: Perfect.
He hangs up the phone and quickly jams it back into his pocket. His evil smile doesnt fade.
Klamour: Who was that and why the hell are you smiling if you just got the news that someone has died?
Blade turns to Klamour looking irritated as he lights up another cigarette.
Blade: None of your business. I have to go tend to some.... Business. Im sure you can let yourself out. Drink any more of my vodka and Ill kill you. Take care!
Blade storms out as Klamour tries to figure out whats going on inside Blades head. After a few moments, he shrugs and helps himself to more vodka as the scene fades.
