I'm Not The One You Need To Worry About (PG 11/20/2020)

*FLASHBACK - MAY 4TH, 2020*

{Our scene opens in a  Psychologist Office.  An older gentleman with white hair, glasses and a black suit sits on a couch.  Across from him sits Christian DeMarco, Caliban’s original personality, dressed in an old blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans}

{The doctor has a remote in his hand, pointing it at the camera.  He looks at once and then places it down on the table}

MAN: Today is Monday May fourth, of two-thousand and twenty.  My name is Doctor Wayne McQuillen.  Mr. DeMarco has requested that I record this session to give a visual history of his diagnosis and treatment.  He has also elected to make this public for easier access.

{Doctor McQuillen turns to look at Christian, hunched over and looking down at the table. Chewing on his fingernails, he looks a little distant.

McQUILLEN: Good afternoon, Christian.  How are you doing today?

{Christian just stares blankly at the table}

McQUILLEN: Christian?

{Still nothing}

McQUILLEN: Mr. DeMarco?

{The doctor snaps his fingers, which pulls Christian out of his trance}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I’m sorry, Doc.  What did you say?

McQUILLEN: I asked how you are doing.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Um…a little jittery.

McQUILLEN: I can tell.  What is troubling you, young man?

{Christian sits back on the couch, looking at the doctor}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Did you speak to Dr. Jones recently?

McQUILLEN: Yes, she and I spoke this morning.  She told me you joined a wrestling promotion…and that you walked out on her.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Yeah…I’m not sure if that was a good idea now.

McQUILLEN: And why is that?

{Christian takes a deep breath}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: At first just thinking about this match was making me a little anxious.

McQUILLEN: Well someone with your illness, that does not surprise me.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: And then when my opponent chimed in…I started getting a little more nervous.  But it was kind of easier to deal with, knowing he was focusing his attention more on everything else.  Talking about old matches, upcoming matches, and my partner…it made it easier to think they would just ignore me and I can just…

{Christian pivots his head side to side like he was trying to find the right words}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: …do what I needed to do.  Even if we lost or barely won, maybe I could just show a little bit of skill, calm myself down by focusing on the task.  Maybe I could just get out of this one barely scathed.

McQUILLEN: Well given that you have never done this before, I can see where that would be the ideal.  I kind of agree with Dr. Jones.  Our own sessions, I have tried to help you become more confident in your daily activities.  I’ve tried to help you by explaining that when you are in a situation where your anxiety starts to get the better of you…try to act confident.  If you look confident and feel confident, you will BE confident.

{Christian sits back down on the couch}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: That’s the thing.  I think I’ve given my opponents the false sense that I am confident I will walk out a winner of this match.

McQUILLEN: Are you?

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Not in the slightest.  I’m a nervous wreck.  I’ve tried to act the part…I’ve tried to feel like I am ready for this.  But I am so far from that right now.

McQUILLEN: Then why continue?  Drop out of the match.  Like I was trying to say earlier, I agree with Doctor Jones about the idea that this whole thing is…

{Christian interrupts the doctor}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I can’t drop out now.

McQUILLEN: But this makes no sense, Christian.  You are going to put yourself through agony, through pain, through injury…for what?

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Because I need this.  I need this to take my mind off the world around me.  I need this to prove to myself that I am nothing more than a twenty-something still living in his Mom’s basement.

McQUILLEN: Yes, about your mother...

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I’m tired of being this little nervous wreck, anxious about everything around me.  My mind set is that when I step into that ring, I can focus on the man standing across from me.

McQUILLEN: But you’re not good at focusing.
CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I can ignore the world and what it thinks in that moment.

McQUILLEN: You’re not very good at that either.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I won’t need prescription pills if I wrap my head around the idea of going toe-to-toe with someone and putting on my anxieties on the table in front of me.

McQUILLEN: That makes no sense.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: And for once…I can feel something.  I can feel the pain of every punch they land, every kick they force.

McQUILLEN: This seems like a type of self-harm, Christian.  Don’t you have bigger things to deal with?  Your anxiety….your depression...your...voices...

{A smirk creeps across Christian’s face}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I know I will have tried my best and for that brief time, I will be in my own little world.

McQUILLEN: Christian, that’s enough!

{Christian snaps out of his partially focused rant and looks at Doctor McQuillen}

McQUILLEN: Like I have been trying to say, I agree with Doctor Jones.  This is a horrible idea.  All it amounts to is violence, self-harm, and this delusion that this will make you feel better about yourself.  You are going to be in the middle of the ring with at least two guys who want to beat you down that you won’t be able to get back up.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Well…

{Christin starts to hunch over, starting to stare at the table again}

McQUILLEN: You have two men who have been doing this for quite some time, they both have beef with everyone in that ring.  And it seems just because you are new to this environment, it doesn’t seem like they are going to take it easy on you.

{Christian begins to chew his fingernails}

McQUILLEN: So as one of your doctors, I strongly oppose this.  I think you need to give up this idea of moving to New Jersey, give up this idea of joining the that wrestling place, and just quit this line of thinking all together.  It’s...it’s toxic.

{The last item rocks Christian out of his anxious trance}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: You want me to quit?

McQUILLEN: Yes, I do.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: You want me to go back to sitting in my mother’s basement, popping your little anxiety pills?

McQUILLEN: You go through with this, you will need pain medication added to that prescription.  And then probably something stronger for your anxiety, as this could be a huge trigger for you Christian.  Just let this idea go.

{A scowl appears on Christian’s face}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Why does everyone doubt me?

McQUILLEN: We don’t doubt you, Mr. DeMarco.  We just have been helping you for so long, that we know that anxiety is just the beginning of your troubles.

{Christian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I’m going to New Jersey.  I’m going to step into that ring.  And even if I get my butt handed to me, I’m going to walk out of there with a smile on my face.  And do you know why, Doc?

McQUILLEN: Because you are stubborn?

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: Because I know I did this on my own.  Where all of you have failed in helping me, I will have tried to do something to help myself.  I will have stepped into that ring and faced any fears I have…and believe me, I have a lot of them.

McQUILLEN: I believe you.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: And when that match is over, whether my side gets the three count, or I lay there broken in the middle of the ring…I did this for me.  I did it for my mental stability.

McQUILLEN: Your stability is something I worry about.

{Christian pokes his chest with his index finger}

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I will have accomplished something I set out to do when everyone else thinks I will fail.

McQUILLEN: I think you are going to fail horribly.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I may not be ready; everyone may be questioning my reasons…but I am doing this for me.  No one else…just me.  And Doc, if you agree with Doctor Jones, then I’m done with you too.

McQUILLEN: Let’s not be irrational, Christian.

CHRISTIAN DEMARCO: I have some packing to do.  I’ve got a flight to New Jersey to catch.

{Christian angrily walks off camera}

{Doctor McQuillen grabs his cell phone off the table and dials the number, letting out a sigh.  He pulls the phone to his face and waits a moment}

McQUILLEN: Hello, Doctor Jones?

{Pause}

McQUILLEN: This is Doctor McQuillen.  Christian DeMarco was just here.

{Pause}

McQUILLEN: I couldn’t talk him out of it either.  I think we may need to take more drastic measures about this.

{The doctor, remembering the camera, grabs the remote and hits the power button}

{The screen goes black}

*PRESENT*

{Our scene reopens to Caliban sitting on a couch, in an apartment somewhere in New Jersey}

CALIBAN: It’s amazing to look around this place and realize exactly where I came from.  Given the idea of becoming a professional wrestler when Christian lived in his mother’s basement in Apple Valley, MN…

{Caliban looks around the apartment’s living room}

CALIBAN: ...to moving to this shithole in New Jersey, to join some federation who was more bent on the idea of jerking off their cliq, than to actually assist those new to the business...new to the company...new...in general.

{Dressed in a dark blue t-shirt and black shorts, Caliban scowls}

CALIBAN: The toxic nature of people...of federations, leagues, associations...it truly is appalling.  Christian began in one place and to pull him from what was surely a collision course to obscurity, when I took over I brought us to ProjectL Honor.  Here?  I’ve fought…

{Caliban begins to count on his fingers}

CALIBAN: ...Indy Darling...Alex Slayer...Indy Darling...another nobody...Indy Darling...American Grime...oh...and I did I mention Indy Darling?  It’s like the management can’t get enough of us.  It’s like management sees Indy Darling and Caliban and the cash money signs replace their pupils, like in cartoons.

{He stands to his feet and holds his hands up like he is reading a marquee}

CALIBAN: I can see it in big lights.  Come see the greatest show on earth...Proving Grounds, featuring X-Factor Champion...Warrior Rising Champion...versus an Outlaw and a Crazy man.  The people will gobble up the tickets...gobble up the Netflix subscriptions.

{His attention falls to in front of him, like he is staring at something that is not there)

CALIBAN: They will be online trying to use illegal apps to watch the show on their computers, their cellphones, all...to gain a glimpse...at the future of this company.

{Caliban looks back up at the camera}

CALIBAN: Sarah, you and I don’t have much beef.  You bested the seven of us at Bloodbath to gain your shot at that Warrior Rising Championship.  And like a ready and able contender, you snatched that title from poor little Zane’s hands...with one swoop.  You are a force to be reckoned with, I have no doubt of that.  But in this match where you stand side-by-side with a man you just beat down to earn that shot...do you think you both will be able to stay buddy-buddy enough?  Or is there some sort of animosity still there.

{Caliban smirks, showing off his missing tooth}

CALIBAN: After all, you beat Indy...but then Indy gets a shot at Colton Saint and rips the X-Factor Title from him?  Shouldn’t YOU have gotten that shot fist?  Shouldn’t YOU have have been given the chance to earn that gold?  Yeah, sure...the Warrior Rising Championship is still a title around your waist...but that’s for us newbies.

Us...small fries.

Us...almost-theres.

{Caliban’s smirk becomes a little devilish as his brows furrow slightly}

CALIBAN: Sarah, you worked hard at defeating Indy Darling.  And how are you rewarded?  Indy gets a BETTER title shot than you.  He gets a BIGGER deal than you.  Now while I believe Zane was more talented than Colton Saint could ever be...that doesn’t negate the fact that you got the raw end of the Championship Title-shot deal.  You should have been the one offered the X-Factor Title shot instead of Indy.  You should have been the one walking out of Proving Grounds with Maxwell around your waist.  Instead Indy Darling sits there, nose in the air, looking down at you because his title...is slightly higher on the food chain than your own.

{The smirk fades away and he shrugs his shoulders}

CALIBAN: But to each their own.  I mean, I see Indy.  I know what makes him tick.  I understand the attitude he brings, the ego he gives off, the toxic nature of his smugness.  Multiple times now, I have tried to wipe it off his face.  But like a cockroach, he takes a beating and just keeps coming back.  

I slap him away and destroy Alex Slayer...Indy keeps coming back.

I step on him and destroy Alex Slayer...and Indy keeps fucking coming back.

{Caliban walks over and sits back down on the couch, crossing his legs and putting one arm up on the back of the couch}

CALIBAN: I guess the third time's a charm, right?  Maybe this time, we can finally cut those strings...sound good Indy?  From here, we can see if your win over Colton was a fluke.  But before you think i am boasting...or saying that I am better than you...I need you to realize, this match isn’t all about me...
It isn’t all about you…

It isn’t all about Sarah…

{Caliban points to a corner of the picture where it is nothing but an empty couch.  Suddenly a picture of John Nash Strader appears there}

CALIBAN: You, my friend, need to worry about this man.  Because while my intent is on teaching you lessons, teaching you how to release you from the things that hold you down, teaching you about becoming what you truly want to be in life...this man...this man right here…

{Caliban moves his hand slightly, continuously pointing at the picture of JNS}

CALIBAN: This man is seething...foaming at the mouth...ready to tear you to bits.  Why?  Because you have something he wants.  You have something he wants around his waist, over his shoulder, on his resume.

{Caliban leans in and mouths the word X-Factor}

CALIBAN: So while you may look at me and think I’m the crazy one, remember...I’m here to help you.  John?  He’s here to hurt you.

{Caliban leans back and smiles}

CALIBAN: Again, this all falls back onto strings, Indy.  It is the strings that are holding you down.  It is the strings that tie that X-Factor to your waist.  And it is the strings that are going to hurt when JNS grabs you by them, lifts you up from the ground, and shows you what it truly means to Ride or Die.

{Caliban puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes}

CALIBAN: But don’t say i didn’t warn you, Indy.  From the very beginning I’ve warned you all about the strings of life.  You’re just the one that has been too cocky to listen.  Free yourself, Indy…

{Caliban smirks}

CALIBAN: ...before it’s too late.

{The camera zooms out from Caliban, showing the only thing in the living room is the couch, an  end table, and multiple kids crayon drawings that are hung all over the walls}

{Fade out}