One Fall 07.02.11: Chapters 17 & 18

We left off last week with a surprise phone call from Duke inviting Joey to a meeting. We’ll follow where that goes, and also check back in with the competition at Revolution Wrestling, where head writer Vicky Archuleta has some ideas about where to take their biggest star.

Here are the previous installments:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapters 6 & 7
Chapter 8
Chapters 9, 10, 11
Chapter 12
” target=”new”>Chapters 15 & 16

And now, Chapters 17 and 18 of One Fall.

CHAPTER 17

Joey stepped out of the elevator at floor 22. Arrows on the wall pointed him to the presidential suite. He knocked twice.

Duke opened the door and flashed the same gold-toothed grin that two weeks ago told Joey he was going to become the GWA champion. The presidential suite was a small house of luxury rooms. Duke led Joey through the entrance room, which featured a fountain of marble and granite that gurgled four feet above the hardwood floor. To Joey’s right was a sitting area surrounding a flatscreen TV. To his left was a kitchen, separated from the main room by a mahogany counter. At the back of the entrance room, Duke and Joey sat at an oak breakfast table, between french doors and a picture window. The doors led to a small balcony, on which two potted trees filtered the incoming sun. Duke scooted his chair until he was directly opposite Joey, then handed him a lunch menu.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll call it in,” said Duke.

Joey didn’t know if the luxury treatment was typical for Duke’s guests or if he was being buttered up for a beating. He ordered pasta with vegetables and chicken. A few minutes later a waiter arrived with baskets of bread, glasses of water, and a bottle of wine.

Duke swirled his wine and smelled it before taking a long drag. When he put his glass down, he exhaled audibly, as if what he was about to say disgusted him.

“Joey, when I was your age, this business was about fooling the public,” he said, speaking slowly and looking out to the balcony.

“Our number one goal when putting on a show was to get the people to believe the crap we were selling them. We thought, as long as they believed it was real, they’d be entertained. They came to see a real fight and we’d give it to them, at least in their minds.

“Now it’s different. Now everyone knows our secrets. So instead of selling them sport, we sell them sex, stories, athleticism, and a little bit of fighting. We don’t try to fool them anymore.”

Joey nodded and took a bite of bread. He had no idea where Duke was going, but knew that Duke expected his guests to patiently listen to his tales. Duke continued.

“That’s what’s so puzzling about your situation after last night. Everything went wrong, people broke character, the fans were confused. It was almost like the old days, and I gotta tell you, it felt good to me. It felt fresh. For once, the fans weren’t onto us. They didn’t know if we were for real or not. By god, we had them mixed up, and I’ll be a weasel in the henhouse if I said I didn’t like it. That’s the way it should be, Joey. That’s what this business is supposed to be about. We’re not fucking Broadway, or the fucking soap operas, we’re wrestling, dammit. We’re our own kettle of fish. And we’ve forgotten our roots. Our job is to put on a show that the fans believe is real. Wrestling was better when the fans thought it was real. And we’re going to take what started on Monday night and continue it. We’re going to be one step ahead of the fans again, Joey. It’ll be great.”

Joey said nothing. He was more confused than ever, and was starting to feel uncomfortable. He didn’t really know what he expected from this meeting, but he knew this was not it.

A waitress rolled a food service tray into the room and to their table. Joey’s pasta looked decent, but not worth the thirty dollars it cost. Duke ordered a burger and fries, which seemed quaint for the fancy setting and service, and a little odd to be eating with expensive wine.

The waitress stood for an instant, in a practiced attempt at a tip, but got nothing from Duke. As she rolled out of the room, Duke said, “Eighteen percent gratuity included in the bill, don’t know why they expect me to give more on top.”

Joey smiled and nodded in agreement. In his mind, he could see himself looking like a kiss-ass.

“So, Joey, what do you think so far?”

“I’m with you so far.” He was lost.

“Good. Here’s what I’ve got planned. I think you’re gonna love it.” Duke inhaled a huge bite of his burger, so much so that his cheeks expanded as he tried to chew. Joey looked down at his plate. This meeting had become uncomfortable.

“What I’m thinking,” Duke mumbled through a mouthful of hamburger, “is that we include Goliath’s very real injury in our story, but do it like it was just another wrestling angle.” Duke uncapped the ketchup bottle, turned it upside down over his plate, and smacked it repeatedly as he continued. “I want our fans to argue with each other about whether or not Goliath is really hurt, as I understand they’re already doing. It will be the beginning of a new era, where once again the fans are out of the loop of what we’re doing, as it should be.”

Joey nodded again. He realized he had said almost nothing since he sat down, and hoped that was how Duke wanted it.

“So the story will be the World Title is now vacant. It will remain vacant until you and Goliath finish your match, meaning we won’t have a champion until Goliath is well enough to return. In the meantime, the story is, everyone wants a shot at you since there’s no title to shoot for. Every week you’re going to go up against someone from the roster who’s sure as hell they can beat you because you’re just a little kid who got a fluke win, and if they can beat you, they’ll prove they deserve a world title shot. Week by week you’ll get win after win until Goliath comes back, and then your match with him will be a barnburner and no one will know who’s going to win. It’ll headline a pay per view and we’ll make a killing.”

“Okay,” Joey said, almost against his own will.

“Okay? It’s great my boy! Show some hutzpah, you’re going to get a massive push!”

Duke was particularly ugly with food between his gold teeth.

Joey smiled, then realized he needed more ‘hutzpah’ and smiled bigger. ‘Okay,’ he told himself, ‘you’re still being pushed. Just keep your head up and maybe this will all turn out fine.’

Joey and Duke finished their lunch with only small talk between them. Joey felt like Duke wanted him to say more, to be his friend. Maybe Duke was looking for a new friend now that Goliath was out of action for awhile. If you were smart, Joey told himself, you’d grab this opportunity and do some serious butt-kissing. Duke was practically begging Joey to be his right-hand guy, and Joey couldn’t come through.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss up. Hell, any chance Joey had of being popular in the locker room was already gone. Might as well buddy up to the boss and let people say what they want – they were going to say it anyway.

But Joey had no idea what to say or how to say it. What do you say to the most notorious wrestling promoter in history? Do you flatter him? Do you get him to talk about himself?

And before Joey could decide, it was already time to leave. Duke had another appointment. He shook Joey’s hand and walked him to the door.

“One other thing, Joey,” Duke said as he stood at the doorway. “Do you know what you’re doing with Jade?”

Shit. Here was the bomb. What was the answer to this one?

“Yes,” Joey said. Yes what? What did he just answer?

“Not that it’s any of my business, but I want to make sure you know what you’re doing. I’m sure you’re already aware of what’s out there on the Internet.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” said Joey, a total lie. He’d have to check the Internet the minute he got back to the room.

“So you know what kind of trouble this sort of thing can cause. If I can be so bold, Joey, you need to end whatever you’ve started and cut your losses. If you and Jade become an item you’re toast to those Internet kids. They’ll crucify you both. Every time they talk about you, they’ll make a snide remark about her. I’ve seen it happen before. This business just isn’t meant for romance. You get me?”

“I don’t know,” Joey said cautiously.

Duke looked frustrated, like a father trying to scold his teenage son. “Come back inside for a minute,” he said.

Joey followed Duke back into the suite.

“Have a seat,” Duke said, gesturing toward a black leather recliner. Joey sat. Duke remained standing, and paced among the furniture as he spoke.

“Joey, I’m sorry I wasn’t being clear a minute ago. Sometimes I expect people to read my mind. It’s a bad habit of mine. Anyway, what I was trying to say is, if we’re going ahead with this push, I need you to end whatever you’ve got going on with Jade.”

“How come?” said Joey. He wanted to say, ‘No way,’ or, ‘That’s ridiculous,’ but only got out the benign question.

“Joey, I hate that I have to do this to you, but Jade has a lot of history with this company, with our wrestlers, with our fans. I can’t have two of my high profile stars…I can’t–“

“Is it because Goliath has a history with her?” Joey was growing displeased with himself that he hadn’t put a stop to this already. He wished he had it in him to jump up from his chair and tell off the boss for even suggesting this.

“In part, it’s, more than that, it’s complicated.” Duke’s voice was careful but firm. There was nothing apologetic about it. Joey could tell that, even with his difficulty finding the right words, Duke wasn’t going to accept an answer of no.

“What if Jade and I kept our relationship a secret? What if we kept a lower profile? I know I botched it last night and we were seen, but last night was crazy, with Goliath’s injury and all.”

“No, Joey, it’s more than that. Okay, look, I’m beating around the bush here. Joey, you can’t see Jade. You can’t be friends with Jade. If you want to get this push, if you want to make it in this business, you’ll need to go back to your room this afternoon and if she calls you you’ll need to give her the cold shoulder. It’s that simple. Jade has some troubles, some troubles of her own to work out, and some troubles with this company. We’ve got her signed to a long, large contract, and I need to keep her around and get what money I can out of her, but I can tell you, and believe me, she knows this, that when her contract’s up in a little over a year, she’s out of here.

“Trust me, Joey. This is a favor I’m doing for you. You don’t want to be involved with her. I know it seems fine right now, but, Lord, listen to me, as your elder, as someone who knows this business better than anyone. If you want to make it, you can’t get involved with someone like her. And don’t forget that you’re getting the offer of a lifetime here. I’m planning on putting you over every star on my roster, including the world champion. By the time we’re done here Joey, you can have any woman in the world. I just need you to do this one thing for me. For yourself too.”

“Duke, I’m sorry, I still don’t understand what the big deal–“

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking about this!” Duke’s face had turned bright red, and frightening. “Joey, I’m telling you to do something for me. Do this for me, and I’ll do something for you. It’s that simple. If you want to become the biggest wrestling star in the world, you have to do this for me. So, what’s it going to be?”

Joey sunk a little in his chair. Why was this all so hard? He was a good wrestler. He just wanted to wrestle. Why did every step involve these personality conflicts?

“No,” he said. “Duke, I can’t do what you’re asking.”

Duke leaned against the back of the couch and sighed. “You want to do the right thing. You’re a man with a conscience. I am too. I can appreciate that. I’ll tell you what. You take some more time to think about it. Our next show isn’t for a few days. You take a few days to figure out what you’re gonna do. I’ll see you on Friday, in Albuquerque. You can tell me then.”

Duke started walking to the door. Joey stood up and followed him.

“Joey, if you confront Jade about all of this, she’s going to tell you her side of the story, or maybe she’ll just dump you like a sack of potatoes, who knows with that woman, but it’s going to be your choice. Just remember that I know everything she’s going to tell you, and my stance is unchanged. You can’t be with her if you want to be my world champion.”

“Duke, my answer’s not going to change,” Joey said as he stepped across the threshold.

“Just think about it,” said Duke. “See you on Friday,” and the door closed.

Joey took a step back, then stood for a few seconds, looking at the closed door to the presidential suite. So many things he should have said. Go to hell. Fuck you, this isn’t any of your business. I don’t need your fucking push or your fucking world title. He took a step toward the door and raised his hand as if to knock.

But he didn’t knock. Feeling like he had no control over what he did, he left. He went down the hall and got on the elevator. His room was on the eighth floor. He pushed the button for the lobby. His reflection was in the mirrored walls on three sides of him. He didn’t want to look at himself, so he looked at the red carpet on the floor. The elevator stopped three times on the way down to pick up and drop off other guests.

When they reached the lobby, he was the first one off, leaving an elderly couple and a man with two suitcases behind him. He went out the front doors into the swamp of the Houston afternoon and began to walk. He hadn’t even turned the first corner before two preteens ran up to him and asked for his autograph. He signed one for each, then turned around and went back into the hotel.

Forty seconds later he slid his key card into the slot on the door of room 809 and pushed it open. Jade was lying on the bed watching television.

“Hey Handsome,” she said as he entered.

Joey ignored her, going straight to the laptop that sat on the nightstand.

“Easy there Tiger,” said Jade. “What’s going on?”

It struck Joey that Jade was wearing a gray T-shirt that he’d picked up in Jacksonville. She had to open his suitcase to get that T-shirt out.

“I really want to know what’s out there about my match last night and, anything else.”

Jade looked at him with such curiosity that he wanted to hide. “Did Duke say something about us?” she said.

“No,” said Joey. A stiffness raced through his shoulders with the realization that this would be the first of a string of lies. “He only wanted to talk about what happened in my match last night. It was…nothing. What’s your password?”

Jade squished her mouth to the left side of her face and squeezed her eyebrows in bewilderment. “Are you sure you want to see what’s online? It’s not going to be pretty.”

“I have to see. Just…your password, please.”

“Alright,” Jade said resignedly. She came over to the computer and logged on.

“Thanks Jade. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be so concerned about this.”

“No, no, Sweetie, it’s okay. Celebrity’s still new to you. And you’re gonna see this crap one way or another. You can’t escape it. I just hope you’re ready. I’m sure they’ve skewered us both like yesterday’s kill.”

CHAPTER 18

Vicky Archuleta had only been a member of Revolution Wrestling’s creative team for three months, but in that time she had made herself indispensable. Trained in the jungles of Hollywood studios, Vicky knew well how the game was played, and by her second week on the job, had already booked herself on a two-day trip to Aruba with Max Zeffer on his private jet. From that point on, even though she was a woman in her early thirties with no experience in the wrestling world, even though former wrestlers and wrestling promoters made up the rest of the creative staff, even though she was loathed by the company and its fans, her voice was one of the most powerful on the team.

And this morning her voice was saying one thing: turn Lucifer heel.

The idea had come to her last night, as she sat on the plane, typing a screenplay on her laptop. The screenplay, a crime thriller set in Hollywood, had been her obsession for three years. She had begun it certain it would be her masterpiece, her ticket out of the annals of television and into the world of New York penthouse parties and personal profiles on cable TV. Three years and thirty rejection letters later (her agent had proclaimed he would drop her if she tried to push one more draft on him), she was certain that if she could just find the right motivation for her main character, Clint Shadow (she imagined Tom Cruise playing the lead) the screenplay would come together and the Oscars would follow.

As she thought about Clint Shadow, FBI-agent extraordinaire, chasing arch-fiend Dirk Hitler through the dark streets of Hollywood, and wondered what drove him to do what he did, she realized that Lucifer, the centerpiece of the television show she was supposed to be writing, was boring. Lucifer beat people up, he won championships, he apparently was very skilled at “submission holds” (why these wrestlers were so hung up on these human pretzel maneuvers was beyond her – it seemed to her that if they were to imitate real fighting there should be more punching and kicking), but no one knew why he did it. Why did he care about the World Title? Why did he put his body through such torture to win these silly matches?

And the answer was simple: he didn’t know why, he just did it. He was a violent person. Hence, the “heel turn.” It was brilliant.

In her short time in the wrestling business, she had taken it upon herself to learn the lingo. Heels, Babyfaces, Heat, Pops, Get Over, Get Under (was Get Under a term?), Workrate, Shoot — she had it down. Of the established universe of the wrestling business, by far the most interesting concept was that of heels and babyfaces. She was shocked at how little the others on the creative team understood the storytelling power of heels and babyfaces. Good Guy / Bad Guy; Black / White, nothing in between. That dichotomy was perfect for storytelling to the masses, and the sole reason professional wrestling survived as a form of entertainment.

The problem with these wrestling promoters was that they wanted their biggest stars to play the good guy. Didn’t they understand that the villain was the most interesting role in entertainment? The fans understood it. They always cheered for the bad guys, well, sometimes they did.

The fans would love a heel turn for Lucifer right now. It would be a big surprise. It would add depth to his character. It would give him motivation.

“I don’t think so,” said Gene. Gene Harold was one of five men sitting at the round wooden table with her. To the left of Gene’s obscenely large belly was Patrick Childers, the production manager. On Patrick’s left was Max, who was next to Vicky.

On Vicky’s right was Larry Jenkins, the Talent Manager, and next to him was Walt Thompson, an elderly former wrestler who now served as road agent and general lackey to Max.

“Why don’t you think so, Gene?” said Vicky.

“We know where we’re going with Lucifer, we don’t need to make any changes to his character. He’s the freshest thing in wrestling right now. It’s a terrible idea. Let’s move on to something else, please.”

God, Gene was an asshole. As Head Booker, he clashed with Vicky on every one of her ideas. She didn’t understand what his purpose was. She had been brought in as Head Writer, a position she had held for a daytime soap opera and a prime time drama, and she certainly didn’t need any other chefs in the kitchen. She wished Max would fire Gene. If this creative team were to be effective, step one would be to give full creative control to her, and Gene’s job would just be to figure out how the stories play out in the wrestling ring. All the storylines, dialogue, backstage sketches, and character development should be hers.

Alas, it didn’t work that way. The truth was, Gene had control over most of the storylines, and her job was to write the dialogue for the backstage sketches and contribute ideas to these meetings. And were it not for her rendezvous with Max and the promise of another one, she might not even have that much.

“I don’t think we’re ready to move on to something else yet,” she said. “Hear me out. This heel turn is a great idea. Lucifer’s character needs motivation.”

“He has a motivation. He wants to be the World Champion,” said Gene.

“But why? It’s just a piece of costume jewelry–“

“Just a piece of costume jewelry! Good God, can we please move on to something else?” said Gene.

“No. Now, what do the rest of you think?” said Vicky.

Gene looked to Max for help. Vicky was pleased that Max provided none.

“Well, we know where Gene stands,” said Max, calmly. “How about you Larry?”

This is what she loved about Max. He was fearless. Larry and Gene made it a point to always disagree with each other on everything. With Larry on her side, the discussion would get interesting.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Gene on this one,” said Larry. “While Ms. Archuleta’s arguments sound smart and thought out, I don’t understand them. It doesn’t make any sense to me to just turn our number one hero at the height of his popularity.”

Bastard she thought. They’re all jealous little bastards, and they’re scared to death of me.

“Okay,” said Max. “Walt?”

“I’m with the guys.”

Of course Walt was with the guys now. There was no point in even asking him, the spineless little slug.

“Patrick?”

“Max, I’m also with Gene.”

“Alright then. It’s decided. Lucifer will not turn heel, at least not now. But, frankly, I’m disappointed in this group. I brought Vicky in to give us a fresh perspective from a talented writer with a proven track record. Turning Lucifer heel when no one expects it is precisely the type of innovation that can turn Revolution from a great wrestling promotion into a great entertainment company. You gentlemen are all so immersed in the artificial rules of the wrestling world that you’re horrified to think of trying something different. But if we’re ever to increase our audience, we have to expand our vision. The market is saturated with fans who know how a heel and a babyface should behave. To bring in new fans, we need characters who behave outside the norms of the established wrestling universe.”

“So what are you saying Max?” said Gene with resignation. “Are we or aren’t we turning Lucifer? I’m ready to move on.”

“I’ve already told you. You guys said no, so the answer is no, for now. Besides, we need to finish the program between Lucifer and Scott Rollins that we have planned. After that’s done, we will revisit this issue, and when we do, I expect you all to come to this meeting with an open mind. I want this group to be leading the way not just for the wrestling business, but the entire entertainment industry. To do that, we need to think outside the confines of the wrestling world of the past fifty years.”

“Okay then, moving on,” said Gene, who then led the meeting in a new direction, discussing booking ideas for the ongoing feud between Flash Martin and Miguel Cervantes for the American Title, a feud about which Vicky had nothing to say. She’d write up the dialogue after these men had figured out whatever they had to figure out. No doubt whatever they came up with would be crap, but she knew to choose her battles carefully. She’d lost today, but Max was in her pocket on the Lucifer turn, and with all these goons against her, when they did flip the switch on her idea and the ratings lit up and the company made a fortune and TV Guide wanted to interview the brilliant writers for Revolution Riot, she’d be alone on the podium, and Gene Harold, the fat fartknocker, would be that much closer to being out of her way, and she and Max could turn Revolution Riot into a real TV show.

But that would all have to wait. For now, it was more cheesy wrestling dialogue and another month of evenings with Clint Shadow and Dirk Hitler.

– Listen to the latest edition of the 411 on Wrestling podcast! On the show, 411’s Larry Csonka is joined by co-host Steve Cook to discuss the CM Punk promo from Monday, All Wheels Wrestling, Five Questions with Larry, Impact Wrestling, the build to Destination X and more!

You can listen to the show on the player below, or you can download the show here.

The show is also available on iTunes!