Post by Marcus Welsh on Jan 7, 2020 18:25:52 GMT -5
Monday
December 9th
Treat Cassidy stands next to his car outside of a federal penitentiary in Florida. He looks somewhat annoyed, but trying to keep his best optimistic face.
After a moment, the gate to the penitentiary begins to open. Multiple prison guards watch the gate closely, as if they’re just waiting for a reason to grab their firearms.
Treat steps away from his car for a moment, lowering his sunglasses to see the specimen passing through the prison gates.
That specimen is Mack O’Connor. Mack walks towards the prison gate, towards his freedom. The Mack O’Connor we know would be wearing jeans, black shirt, and a black leather jacket. That is not this Mack O’Connor. This Mack O’Connor approaches the gate dresses in khaki shorts, a white tank top under a bright blue Hawaiian shirt, and sandals.
Treat looks slightly confused, but he holds a straight face as Mack comes walking through the gate. The two stare at each other for a moment.
We ready to go or what?
Depends.
On?
You know we’re not going on vacation right?
Mack doesn’t look amused.
Fuck you.
What happened to your clothes?
Had to make some trades.
And buy off some guards?
Mack stares at him for a moment, not wanting to divulge too much.
Something like that.
Treat shrugs.
That’s a shame. I always liked your leather jacket.
Yeah, so did I.
Treat pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pockets. He tosses both to Mack.
Ready to go?
I suppose so.
Treat motions to his car. Mack gets in the passenger seat while Treat hops in the driver seat.
----------
Sometime later, during their drive, the two sit in silence while Mack smokes a cigarette. After several moments, Mack curiously glances at Treat.
What happened to your limo?
Couldn’t afford to keep it.
Mack is genuinely surprised.
What? How come?
Treat lets out a frustrated sigh, scoffing at Mack.
You don’t really pay attention to shit, do you? I know you were locked up, but they do have ways for you to keep connected.
Fuck off with all that and tell me what’s going on.
The climate, Mack. This climate has gone down the drain.
Mack thinks for a moment.
Like… Global warming?
What? No! For Pete’s sake, are you drunk right now?
I wish.
The climate of this business, Mack! First, OCW closed its doors for whatever reasons. Then, Chad Vargas drops me as his agent.
Vargas dropped you?
Yep. As his lawyer, agent, spokesman, manager, all of it! Completely dropped me and went and got himself a contract elsewhere.
Oh, he did? Well good for him.
Yeah, good for him. Great for him. Meanwhile, my income declines. Then, to cap it all off, I go out there and start looking for work for my number one client! My most billed name! The reigning OCW Champion! And what does he go and do?
Treat lets out a sarcastic laugh out of frustration, looking over at Mack. Mack looks like he’s waiting for Treat to finish the story.
Okay… He went and did what?
Treat’s eyes go wide in anger.
You, Mack! You went and got yourself thrown in prison!
Hey, fuck you. It was your fault I was locked up
My fault? Are you serious?
Yeah, it was all your idea. Remember?
My idea? My idea was for a public relations appearance in Nevada. My idea was for the OCW Champion to make an appearance at the location of the canceled show. It was a great idea!
Like I said… Your idea.
Treat fumes.
It WASN’T my idea for you to go on a bender and show up to the event looking for a fight! It was NOT my idea for you to attack all those people!
Fuckin’ nerds kept going on and on about clapping alien ass cheeks. They were gettin’ on my nerves. Who comes up with that shit anyway? Really? You think you’re gonna raid Area 51? Dumb fucks…
The whole thing was a silly internet joke, Mack. And they were thrilled to see you! Geez… I don’t how I managed to get you back to Florida.
Probably something to do with my parole.
Treat gives up.
Yeah… Probably…
They sit in silence for a few moments. Mack takes a long drag on his cigarette and exhales slowly.
Look… We can go back and forth all day about this shit, right?
Right.
So let’s stop that here and now. Let’s move forward.
Okay.
What do you got for me? I know my sentence was longer than this. It’s only been like four months. So what’s up? What are we doing?
I managed to convince the judge and your parole board to let you out early. It comes with some pretty tight restrictions though. So I need you to work with me, okay?
Fine… What else?
I got you back in the ring.
Where?
OCW.
OCW shut down.
It did.
So…
Some sort of anniversary show. Not sure if they’ll be doing awards or what not, but it’s a one-time sendoff event. They contacted me last week about it. I talked to the right people and got you out.
Who called you? Was it Reasoning?
I don’t know.
Zybala?
I don’t know.
Was it fuckin’ Welsh? I thought the dude was locked up in North Korea?
Geez, no… I don’t know who is running shit over there anymore. It was just some representative that I spoke with, and we finalized everything this morning. It’s a good a payout, Mack.
I’d imagine so.
Mack stares at Treat for a moment, waiting for him to continue. Treat notices and glances over.
What?
Go on.
With what?
Give me the details. Who am I facing? What’s the stipulation? Is the title on the line? You know, the deets.
Yeah, I was getting to that… Hungry?
Fuck yeah, I am. I’ve been eating cardboard and plastic for four months. Lets get some food.
----------
Mack and Treat sit at a booth inside a pub. Mack sips on a beer and munches on a burger. Treat sips on a water and eats a salad. A salad with balsamic vinegar dressing.
It appears Treat just finished laying out all the details for the upcoming match.
So… I don’t know who I’m facing. Can be any number of people?
Something like that.
They want me to go in blind?
You and everyone else.
Can’t say they don’t know how to keep things interesting. The “Face of OCW” huh?
That’s what they told me.
And they didn’t drop any hints about who it may include?
Nope. They kept it very vague. I’d prepare yourself for a lot of the big names though. If this is a sendoff they’re not going to bring in any chumps.
I see your point.
Mack sips his beer, thinking.
So just a few weeks, huh?
Yes. Have you been keeping in shape?
Little else to do in there. Don’t get many opportunities to drink and fuck in prison, so staying in shape is pretty easy to accomplish.
Did you get any opportunities?
To drink? Eh… Not really.
What about… You know…
Treat lets out a small giggle. Mack smirks, shaking his head at the joke.
Nope, no one in there was as cute as you, Treat.
Treat laughs.
Off topic… Any word on the belt?
I’ve gone through as many avenues as I can. Unfortunately, the North Korean government is less than cooperative when it comes to those of us in the athletic entertainment industry. Anytime I actually got to talk to a human being, they either gave me the run around or just flat out said its gone. Who knows? Anyway, don’t expect to get that back anytime soon.
Fuckin’ bullshit man.
Yep. Pretty much.
Mack finishes his burger up.
Look… I got some errands I need to run.
What errands? You’ve been out for like two hours.
Think I sat in my cell enjoying the good life? Nah, man, I was thinking about what I had to do once I got out. And now I’m out. I gotta take care of some shit.
Mack chugs down the rest of his beer. He gestures to the finished meal.
You’re covering this right?
Treat nods, as Mack stands to leave.
Do you have a ride?
Don’t worry, I’ll cab it. Or Uber. Or something. No worries.
Mack quickly walks towards the door.
Wait… Mack, hold on…
Treat quickly pulls out some cash and drops it on the table. He gathers things and chases after Mack.
----------
Mack walks down the sidewalk, looking at his phone. He dials a number and puts it to his ear. After a moment, someone picks up on the other line.
Hey. Are you in Florida yet? I'm free so I can be picked up whenever you're ready...
A black van quickly pulls up. The door slides open, and two masked men reach out and grab Mack. They violently pull him into the van and slam the door shut. The van screeches away.
Treat comes out of the pub, frustrated and looking around for Mack.
Mack? Where the heck… Where did you go? Dang it!
----------
What the fuck is this!? Who are you?!
The men take off their masks: They’re Asian.
Can I help you with something?
We’re helping you. My name is Han. Miss Dong sent me.
Mack looks at the other guy.
Hi. I’m Wang.
Mack looks back to Han.
So you and Wang were sent by Dong? Why does this sound like a setup to a joke?
No joke, sir. Miss Dong sent us to retrieve you.
A tap on the shoulder could have worked. Maybe a polite introduction.
We thought it would be better this way.
Why? What if you got the wrong guy?
Impossible. We know who you are.
Fine, whatever. What do you want?
Miss Dong instructed us on your correspondence while you were in prison. Miss Dong provided security for your friend during the length of your incarceration. We were instructed to take you to see her once we had the opportunity to speak with you.
Speak with me… Or kidnap me.
Exactly.
Mack glances at Wang.
Hi. I’m Wang.
Mack looks confused.
He doesn’t speak English.
So where are we going?
We are taking you to see your friend, as instructed by Miss Dong.
Fine.
Mack pulls out a cigarette and lights it up.
----------
The van pulls up to a small house. The door opens and Mack hops out. He turns back to them.
So how do I get a hold of you when I’m done?
We’ll know.
The door shuts and the van screeches away.
Jesus…
Mack turns and cautiously walks to the front door of the house. He raises his hand to knock, but hesitates. After thinking it through, he gives it a few knocks.
A few moments pass before the door opens: Makenna Cullen. Makenna’s eyes go wide in shock as she looks him over.
Nice shirt.
She slams the door on him.
Mack takes a breath, looking down at his Hawaiian shirt.
Well, shit.
Another moment passes and the door opens again.
What the fuck do you want?
Can I come in?
----------
Mack and Makenna sit across the kitchen table from each other. Makenna is mid-speech.
...and I haven’t been able to go to the store for groceries without feeling like someone is following me. I’ve attempted to out on several dates, and each time my imagination spirals out of control about what he might not be telling me. I still occasionally wake up in the middle of the night sweating because I relive almost being raped in my dreams. And this is all because I agreed to take you on as a client.
Makenna…
It’s not your fault. I’m a big girl, and I know I had a say in it. It takes two to tango, and I was just as guilty when we crossed that professional line. There were times I thought it would develop into something more, and other times I knew it wouldn’t. What I didn’t expect was to somehow get caught up in whatever shady things you’ve apparently been dealing with for years.
Makenna…
So I don’t even know what you want now. I heard that you got thrown back in jail, and now you suddenly pop up at my front door. What do you want from me? Going to make me think you ever gave a shit? Want me to take you to the bedroom and fuck you one more time? Huh? What do you want?
Mack sits silently for a moment.
I honestly just wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s all. I know it means nothing now, but I honestly had nothing but the best intentions. I ever wanted to see you get hurt. I know I’ve caused you a lot of pain, and there’s nothing I can say to take that all away. But I am sorry. Truly. I don’t want anything else from you.
They sit in silence for another moment. Makenna leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow.
You were locked up for several months, right?
Yeah. Almost four.
And… You’re sure there’s nothing you want from me?
Mack glances over at her. She’s biting her lip. Mack looks suspicious.
----------
Exactly 19 minutes and 43 seconds later, Mack lies next to Makenna under the sheets of her bed. He smokes a cigarette.
You really are an asshole.
Yep.
She giggles a bit.
Anyway... I’m sorry, too.
Mack just takes another drag off his cigarette.
I thought you had a longer sentence.
Cassidy got me out early for work. Don't know how, but it was really convenient.
Joined another organization?
No, its OCW again.
I thought OCW closed.
It did. But apparently they’re doing some sort of one-time event. Something big to say goodbye. Not sure of all the details, but they’re having some sort of brawl to crown the “Face of OCW.”
What’s that mean?
I guess bragging rights. The right to say you were the one to win the last match in OCW history. That kind of ego bullshit.
And… You want to win?
Why wouldn’t I? I love to brag when I can.
Makenna giggles.
Oh trust me, I know. Who are you fighting?
No idea. Apparently all Treat knows is that I’m gonna be thrown in the ring with some of OCW’s greatest.
And how do you feel about that?
Mack looks at her with a raised eyebrow.
"How do you feel?" You hitting me with the therapist shit again?
Makenna giggles.
No, I’m actually curious.
I do feel honored and humbled, of course. But on the other hand, not surprised given my track record. But yeah… Win or lose, it should be a good fight. I’ve been trying to figure out who may be included. Mike Best had a hell of a run earlier this year, so he’s a possibility. Other Hall-of-Famers are obviously possibilities. Bifford. Vargas. It’s kind of hard to tell. But I do enjoy a good fight. And nothing would stroke my ego more than going out on top.
Mack glances at his phone.
Shit… I do have to go.
Mack gets up and starts getting dressed. Makenna remains relaxed in bed.
So… Whats the plan here? With us?
I don’t know what to tell you.
I imagine this may keep going on? Same bullshit?
Most likely. Minus the wrestling and shady bullshit.
That might be fine with me.
Great.
Mack gives her a quick kiss before leaving.
----------
Moments later, Mack is walking to the sidewalk. He looks to his left and sees the black van quickly approaching. It screeches to a stop in front of him. Han and Wang jump out to grab Mack. Mack steps back and raises his fists.
Don’t you fucking… Don’t do it!
Han and Wang stop and look at each other.
We’re here to give you a ride home.
SO JUST SAY THAT!
Mack looks at Wang.
Hi, Wang.
Hi. I'm Wang.
The three men all climb into the van.
----------
Mack turns his key to his apartment and opens his door. He looks over his apartment, reflecting on his time there.
He shuts the door behind him, quickly moving to the fridge in his kitchen to grab a beer. He cracks it open and takes a swig.
Mack.
He nearly jumps out of his body as Lea Dong comes walking out of the bedroom.
Fuck me…
Maybe one day I’ll have that pleasure. Sooner than later, I hope.
Mack composes himself.
Well, yeah… Maybe.
I did you a favor, and you did me a favor. I’m a generous person, so I also looked into a few things for you. I have friends in the strangest of places, and I called in some favors.
Mack looks confused as she gestures to his coffee table.
Don’t worry, dear. Everything is just fine. I just wanted to come by and wish you well.
She walks up to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.
And I love this shirt. So exotic.
She lets herself out. Mack rips the Hawaiian shirt off.
He sips his beer while moving to the coffee table, and his lips slowly form into a smile. On his coffee table lies the OCW Championship Belt. The same one he accidentally left in North Korea.
Mack picks it up in his free hand and looks it over carefully. He recalls his time in OCW. The fights, the feuds, the rivalries, the blood, the tears, the pain, and the triumphs.
He clinks his beer against the belt in a toast.
The TransAtlantic was my first, but I’m happy you’re my last. Here’s to one last ride.
December 9th
Treat Cassidy stands next to his car outside of a federal penitentiary in Florida. He looks somewhat annoyed, but trying to keep his best optimistic face.
After a moment, the gate to the penitentiary begins to open. Multiple prison guards watch the gate closely, as if they’re just waiting for a reason to grab their firearms.
Treat steps away from his car for a moment, lowering his sunglasses to see the specimen passing through the prison gates.
That specimen is Mack O’Connor. Mack walks towards the prison gate, towards his freedom. The Mack O’Connor we know would be wearing jeans, black shirt, and a black leather jacket. That is not this Mack O’Connor. This Mack O’Connor approaches the gate dresses in khaki shorts, a white tank top under a bright blue Hawaiian shirt, and sandals.
Treat looks slightly confused, but he holds a straight face as Mack comes walking through the gate. The two stare at each other for a moment.
We ready to go or what?
Depends.
On?
You know we’re not going on vacation right?
Mack doesn’t look amused.
Fuck you.
What happened to your clothes?
Had to make some trades.
And buy off some guards?
Mack stares at him for a moment, not wanting to divulge too much.
Something like that.
Treat shrugs.
That’s a shame. I always liked your leather jacket.
Yeah, so did I.
Treat pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pockets. He tosses both to Mack.
Ready to go?
I suppose so.
Treat motions to his car. Mack gets in the passenger seat while Treat hops in the driver seat.
----------
Sometime later, during their drive, the two sit in silence while Mack smokes a cigarette. After several moments, Mack curiously glances at Treat.
What happened to your limo?
Couldn’t afford to keep it.
Mack is genuinely surprised.
What? How come?
Treat lets out a frustrated sigh, scoffing at Mack.
You don’t really pay attention to shit, do you? I know you were locked up, but they do have ways for you to keep connected.
Fuck off with all that and tell me what’s going on.
The climate, Mack. This climate has gone down the drain.
Mack thinks for a moment.
Like… Global warming?
What? No! For Pete’s sake, are you drunk right now?
I wish.
The climate of this business, Mack! First, OCW closed its doors for whatever reasons. Then, Chad Vargas drops me as his agent.
Vargas dropped you?
Yep. As his lawyer, agent, spokesman, manager, all of it! Completely dropped me and went and got himself a contract elsewhere.
Oh, he did? Well good for him.
Yeah, good for him. Great for him. Meanwhile, my income declines. Then, to cap it all off, I go out there and start looking for work for my number one client! My most billed name! The reigning OCW Champion! And what does he go and do?
Treat lets out a sarcastic laugh out of frustration, looking over at Mack. Mack looks like he’s waiting for Treat to finish the story.
Okay… He went and did what?
Treat’s eyes go wide in anger.
You, Mack! You went and got yourself thrown in prison!
Hey, fuck you. It was your fault I was locked up
My fault? Are you serious?
Yeah, it was all your idea. Remember?
My idea? My idea was for a public relations appearance in Nevada. My idea was for the OCW Champion to make an appearance at the location of the canceled show. It was a great idea!
Like I said… Your idea.
Treat fumes.
It WASN’T my idea for you to go on a bender and show up to the event looking for a fight! It was NOT my idea for you to attack all those people!
Fuckin’ nerds kept going on and on about clapping alien ass cheeks. They were gettin’ on my nerves. Who comes up with that shit anyway? Really? You think you’re gonna raid Area 51? Dumb fucks…
The whole thing was a silly internet joke, Mack. And they were thrilled to see you! Geez… I don’t how I managed to get you back to Florida.
Probably something to do with my parole.
Treat gives up.
Yeah… Probably…
They sit in silence for a few moments. Mack takes a long drag on his cigarette and exhales slowly.
Look… We can go back and forth all day about this shit, right?
Right.
So let’s stop that here and now. Let’s move forward.
Okay.
What do you got for me? I know my sentence was longer than this. It’s only been like four months. So what’s up? What are we doing?
I managed to convince the judge and your parole board to let you out early. It comes with some pretty tight restrictions though. So I need you to work with me, okay?
Fine… What else?
I got you back in the ring.
Where?
OCW.
OCW shut down.
It did.
So…
Some sort of anniversary show. Not sure if they’ll be doing awards or what not, but it’s a one-time sendoff event. They contacted me last week about it. I talked to the right people and got you out.
Who called you? Was it Reasoning?
I don’t know.
Zybala?
I don’t know.
Was it fuckin’ Welsh? I thought the dude was locked up in North Korea?
Geez, no… I don’t know who is running shit over there anymore. It was just some representative that I spoke with, and we finalized everything this morning. It’s a good a payout, Mack.
I’d imagine so.
Mack stares at Treat for a moment, waiting for him to continue. Treat notices and glances over.
What?
Go on.
With what?
Give me the details. Who am I facing? What’s the stipulation? Is the title on the line? You know, the deets.
Yeah, I was getting to that… Hungry?
Fuck yeah, I am. I’ve been eating cardboard and plastic for four months. Lets get some food.
----------
Mack and Treat sit at a booth inside a pub. Mack sips on a beer and munches on a burger. Treat sips on a water and eats a salad. A salad with balsamic vinegar dressing.
It appears Treat just finished laying out all the details for the upcoming match.
So… I don’t know who I’m facing. Can be any number of people?
Something like that.
They want me to go in blind?
You and everyone else.
Can’t say they don’t know how to keep things interesting. The “Face of OCW” huh?
That’s what they told me.
And they didn’t drop any hints about who it may include?
Nope. They kept it very vague. I’d prepare yourself for a lot of the big names though. If this is a sendoff they’re not going to bring in any chumps.
I see your point.
Mack sips his beer, thinking.
So just a few weeks, huh?
Yes. Have you been keeping in shape?
Little else to do in there. Don’t get many opportunities to drink and fuck in prison, so staying in shape is pretty easy to accomplish.
Did you get any opportunities?
To drink? Eh… Not really.
What about… You know…
Treat lets out a small giggle. Mack smirks, shaking his head at the joke.
Nope, no one in there was as cute as you, Treat.
Treat laughs.
Off topic… Any word on the belt?
I’ve gone through as many avenues as I can. Unfortunately, the North Korean government is less than cooperative when it comes to those of us in the athletic entertainment industry. Anytime I actually got to talk to a human being, they either gave me the run around or just flat out said its gone. Who knows? Anyway, don’t expect to get that back anytime soon.
Fuckin’ bullshit man.
Yep. Pretty much.
Mack finishes his burger up.
Look… I got some errands I need to run.
What errands? You’ve been out for like two hours.
Think I sat in my cell enjoying the good life? Nah, man, I was thinking about what I had to do once I got out. And now I’m out. I gotta take care of some shit.
Mack chugs down the rest of his beer. He gestures to the finished meal.
You’re covering this right?
Treat nods, as Mack stands to leave.
Do you have a ride?
Don’t worry, I’ll cab it. Or Uber. Or something. No worries.
Mack quickly walks towards the door.
Wait… Mack, hold on…
Treat quickly pulls out some cash and drops it on the table. He gathers things and chases after Mack.
----------
Mack walks down the sidewalk, looking at his phone. He dials a number and puts it to his ear. After a moment, someone picks up on the other line.
Hey. Are you in Florida yet? I'm free so I can be picked up whenever you're ready...
A black van quickly pulls up. The door slides open, and two masked men reach out and grab Mack. They violently pull him into the van and slam the door shut. The van screeches away.
Treat comes out of the pub, frustrated and looking around for Mack.
Mack? Where the heck… Where did you go? Dang it!
----------
What the fuck is this!? Who are you?!
The men take off their masks: They’re Asian.
Can I help you with something?
We’re helping you. My name is Han. Miss Dong sent me.
Mack looks at the other guy.
Hi. I’m Wang.
Mack looks back to Han.
So you and Wang were sent by Dong? Why does this sound like a setup to a joke?
No joke, sir. Miss Dong sent us to retrieve you.
A tap on the shoulder could have worked. Maybe a polite introduction.
We thought it would be better this way.
Why? What if you got the wrong guy?
Impossible. We know who you are.
Fine, whatever. What do you want?
Miss Dong instructed us on your correspondence while you were in prison. Miss Dong provided security for your friend during the length of your incarceration. We were instructed to take you to see her once we had the opportunity to speak with you.
Speak with me… Or kidnap me.
Exactly.
Mack glances at Wang.
Hi. I’m Wang.
Mack looks confused.
He doesn’t speak English.
So where are we going?
We are taking you to see your friend, as instructed by Miss Dong.
Fine.
Mack pulls out a cigarette and lights it up.
----------
The van pulls up to a small house. The door opens and Mack hops out. He turns back to them.
So how do I get a hold of you when I’m done?
We’ll know.
The door shuts and the van screeches away.
Jesus…
Mack turns and cautiously walks to the front door of the house. He raises his hand to knock, but hesitates. After thinking it through, he gives it a few knocks.
A few moments pass before the door opens: Makenna Cullen. Makenna’s eyes go wide in shock as she looks him over.
Nice shirt.
She slams the door on him.
Mack takes a breath, looking down at his Hawaiian shirt.
Well, shit.
Another moment passes and the door opens again.
What the fuck do you want?
Can I come in?
----------
Mack and Makenna sit across the kitchen table from each other. Makenna is mid-speech.
...and I haven’t been able to go to the store for groceries without feeling like someone is following me. I’ve attempted to out on several dates, and each time my imagination spirals out of control about what he might not be telling me. I still occasionally wake up in the middle of the night sweating because I relive almost being raped in my dreams. And this is all because I agreed to take you on as a client.
Makenna…
It’s not your fault. I’m a big girl, and I know I had a say in it. It takes two to tango, and I was just as guilty when we crossed that professional line. There were times I thought it would develop into something more, and other times I knew it wouldn’t. What I didn’t expect was to somehow get caught up in whatever shady things you’ve apparently been dealing with for years.
Makenna…
So I don’t even know what you want now. I heard that you got thrown back in jail, and now you suddenly pop up at my front door. What do you want from me? Going to make me think you ever gave a shit? Want me to take you to the bedroom and fuck you one more time? Huh? What do you want?
Mack sits silently for a moment.
I honestly just wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s all. I know it means nothing now, but I honestly had nothing but the best intentions. I ever wanted to see you get hurt. I know I’ve caused you a lot of pain, and there’s nothing I can say to take that all away. But I am sorry. Truly. I don’t want anything else from you.
They sit in silence for another moment. Makenna leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow.
You were locked up for several months, right?
Yeah. Almost four.
And… You’re sure there’s nothing you want from me?
Mack glances over at her. She’s biting her lip. Mack looks suspicious.
----------
Exactly 19 minutes and 43 seconds later, Mack lies next to Makenna under the sheets of her bed. He smokes a cigarette.
You really are an asshole.
Yep.
She giggles a bit.
Anyway... I’m sorry, too.
Mack just takes another drag off his cigarette.
I thought you had a longer sentence.
Cassidy got me out early for work. Don't know how, but it was really convenient.
Joined another organization?
No, its OCW again.
I thought OCW closed.
It did. But apparently they’re doing some sort of one-time event. Something big to say goodbye. Not sure of all the details, but they’re having some sort of brawl to crown the “Face of OCW.”
What’s that mean?
I guess bragging rights. The right to say you were the one to win the last match in OCW history. That kind of ego bullshit.
And… You want to win?
Why wouldn’t I? I love to brag when I can.
Makenna giggles.
Oh trust me, I know. Who are you fighting?
No idea. Apparently all Treat knows is that I’m gonna be thrown in the ring with some of OCW’s greatest.
And how do you feel about that?
Mack looks at her with a raised eyebrow.
"How do you feel?" You hitting me with the therapist shit again?
Makenna giggles.
No, I’m actually curious.
I do feel honored and humbled, of course. But on the other hand, not surprised given my track record. But yeah… Win or lose, it should be a good fight. I’ve been trying to figure out who may be included. Mike Best had a hell of a run earlier this year, so he’s a possibility. Other Hall-of-Famers are obviously possibilities. Bifford. Vargas. It’s kind of hard to tell. But I do enjoy a good fight. And nothing would stroke my ego more than going out on top.
Mack glances at his phone.
Shit… I do have to go.
Mack gets up and starts getting dressed. Makenna remains relaxed in bed.
So… Whats the plan here? With us?
I don’t know what to tell you.
I imagine this may keep going on? Same bullshit?
Most likely. Minus the wrestling and shady bullshit.
That might be fine with me.
Great.
Mack gives her a quick kiss before leaving.
----------
Moments later, Mack is walking to the sidewalk. He looks to his left and sees the black van quickly approaching. It screeches to a stop in front of him. Han and Wang jump out to grab Mack. Mack steps back and raises his fists.
Don’t you fucking… Don’t do it!
Han and Wang stop and look at each other.
We’re here to give you a ride home.
SO JUST SAY THAT!
Mack looks at Wang.
Hi, Wang.
Hi. I'm Wang.
The three men all climb into the van.
----------
Mack turns his key to his apartment and opens his door. He looks over his apartment, reflecting on his time there.
He shuts the door behind him, quickly moving to the fridge in his kitchen to grab a beer. He cracks it open and takes a swig.
Mack.
He nearly jumps out of his body as Lea Dong comes walking out of the bedroom.
Fuck me…
Maybe one day I’ll have that pleasure. Sooner than later, I hope.
Mack composes himself.
Well, yeah… Maybe.
I did you a favor, and you did me a favor. I’m a generous person, so I also looked into a few things for you. I have friends in the strangest of places, and I called in some favors.
Mack looks confused as she gestures to his coffee table.
Don’t worry, dear. Everything is just fine. I just wanted to come by and wish you well.
She walks up to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.
And I love this shirt. So exotic.
She lets herself out. Mack rips the Hawaiian shirt off.
He sips his beer while moving to the coffee table, and his lips slowly form into a smile. On his coffee table lies the OCW Championship Belt. The same one he accidentally left in North Korea.
Mack picks it up in his free hand and looks it over carefully. He recalls his time in OCW. The fights, the feuds, the rivalries, the blood, the tears, the pain, and the triumphs.
He clinks his beer against the belt in a toast.
The TransAtlantic was my first, but I’m happy you’re my last. Here’s to one last ride.