Cornering the Rat

"Parker…"

Fade in on a gym. Savannah sits on one of the weight benches. Surrounding her on the walls the red and black poster proclaiming EHWF Mayhem’s latest show are hung.

"Is it really possible that it's been a year- almost a year and a half since I've seen your ugly face up on the Tron chickening out on facing me in the ring? Could it truly be that long since you abandoned the IWF- and your partner that night- because you didn't want to face me?

A lot has happened in that year. The world tour, Tim’s beating in London at the hands of He Who Shall Not Be Named, The new bitch at the top…”

Savannah chuckles- a dry, humorless laugh.

“I knew she was too much like Chelsea Magnum-Reed for her own good…”

She rises and begins to move, pacing the cage, giving a dismissive wave to the camera.

“I won’t bore anyone with the details. You guys know what’s been going down here as well as I do. Better, even- especially since last May in Austin. What you probably don’t know is what I’ve been up to in these past… 10 months?

After giving up on He Who Shall Not Be Named- which I did after Tim came out of his coma- I tried to help with a couple of startup feds- which both went belly up, Nothing unusual, happens all of the time- but the fact that one of the feds folded when I was on the edge of winning Hardcore gold? That hurt!”

Another chuckle, this time with more humor.

“Yeah, I kept the training up, kept the dream alive. Haley was out of the picture, but there were plenty of hardcore champions out there.

Good luck on your new life, Haley. Wherever it leads you. You were a driving force in my life, for good or ill, up until recently.”

Savannah looks proudly into the camera.

“Up until I won the EHWF Hardcore title!

Don’t have it now- the bitch who I won it from got it back, although she had to have help getting it. So it’s still in flux- I’ll have it back around my waist soon enough. But she’s no you Haley. She’s close (She’s even threated to ‘end me’) but she’s no you.

Like I said, she has help. You never needed help, did you? Even those of us who offered help- or friendship- you never needed it.”

Savannah gives another shrug and looks away a second.

“Oh well, water under the bridge.”

She paces a moment, as if gathering her thoughts for the next leg of her tale. She suddenly laughs.

"You know, Parker, when I started talking up this last show and the fact that I was going to be facing you I heard some very interesting things. Things like … 'Tell that cocksucker I hope he falls down a flight of stairs and breaks his neck.' and 'If I ever see that motherfucker around here I'mma gonna break his fucking neck!'

In other words, the usual friendly greeting that seems to follow you around. I kind of feel sorry for them, though. Because when I’m done with you in that ring you’ll be leaving a broken man. The theme of the match just called to me. You remember how we started down this road? That first match I witnessed- the one where you broke a man’s arm, just for shits and giggles?"

Savannah stops all her pacing, fixing the camera – and through it the one man on her mind right now. The fire in her eyes is evident.

“I am praying to God that I get you in that hold, Parker. And do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to see if you’re as fucking hard assed as you tried to put yourself off to be- even as you hear your bones snap!”

She closes on the camera- no longer smiling. Actually snarling would be a better description of that face, now.

“You shouldn’t have put off your beating, Parker. It’s just given me time to get better- get stronger- and get more in my life that’s royally pisses me off!

And now? Now you show up to help me work off that energy. Remind me to thank you- when you get out of the hospital.

See you in the ring Parker. Unless you decide to chicken out again.”

Fade to black.