Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

You might think it all ends when the last bell rings, but not in the XWA! This is your first stop to post promos, interviews and character development featuring our stars that is NOT for a current show.
Caleb
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Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

Postby Caleb » Mon Mar 01, 2021 3:13 am

(DISCLAIMER: The following segment takes place off camera and is meant to be a character-building piece. Nothing that happens in this segment will yet be public knowledge to the fans or your characters)

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Without even opening his eyes, and groaning like a wounded wildebeest, Caleb Spires sheepishly reaches to the right of him and tries to locate the “OFF” button on his alarm clock. After blindly flopping his hand around for maybe ten seconds with no luck, he grabs the alarm clock and yanks it as hard as his weakened, shaking body will allow him to, pulling it out of the wall to finally stop the beeping. He drops it on the ground having never even gotten a glimpse of the time. A few more seconds of anguish and moaning, and Spires slowly opens his baggy, purple-shaded eyes and he looks around in an effort to remember where he is. Despite being incredibly dehydrated and confused, it doesn’t take him long to realize he is in a hotel room, one of his favorite suites in Chicago for when he’s in town for a show. He lets out a sigh of relief for being in a familiar location, trying to ignore the lingering stench from the dried chunks of vomit on his chest. The Supreme Champion continues to lie in the bed for a few more minutes, attempting to wake his mind and body up until he finally rolls to the side of his bed, groaning loudly. He plants his feet on the ground and stumbles up against the wall to keep his balance and take a few deep breaths. After Caleb’s moment of composure, he makes out of the bedroom portion of the suite and toward the living room portion, and gets wide-eyed as soon as he turns the corner and sees the suite absolutely trashed.

Caleb observes his surroundings. Empty beer bottles are scattered throughout the suite, along with pizza boxes, plastic cups, and articles of clothing. There is an arm-chair flipped upside down and a table broken in half (fucking wrestlers, man). But the weirdest thing of all, there are two cats walking around the room. A slender, black American shorthair and a slender, white and grey Siamese. This considerably adds to Caleb’s confusion, and he decides to focus on the last thing he remembers. He came out to the ring… celebrated his championship win… vowed to beat Ace Acid and party like it’s 2010- oh shit. He actually did party like it was 2010, while simultaneously coping with a big loss. And by the looks of his suite, he needs to play a game that he used to partake in quite a bit that year; ”Oh shit, what the fuck did I do last night, and why did I do it?” First and foremost to start the process; hope to Buddha that his phone is in the suite and he can find it quickly. As Caleb takes another look around… not likely. And out of nowhere, his stomach instantly forces him to switch up his order of priorities as he runs to the bathroom to cleanse his system again.

As Spires leans over the poor, poor hotel toilet, hopefully expelling the rest of the toxins in his system, he stumbles his way upward and makes his way to the sink so that he can brush his teeth and prepare for a shower. He finishes getting the taste of regurgitated Guinness and pizza out of his mouth with a thirty second mouthwash rinse and then opens the shower curtain to start it up. Once he pulls the curtain back, Caleb is again in shock to see a plump, orange tabby cat taking a huge stretch as he was probably just woken up from a nap. Cat number three opens an eye; lightly growls, and proceeds to get up and walk away from his owner. Still unbelievably confused at the emergence of all these cats, he decides to ask questions later and starts the shower now. He waits for the water to heat up, and strips down as he prepares to get in, when something catches his eye and nearly knocks him unconscious. Reflecting at him in the mirror is something he has never gotten in his 34 years; a tattoo, and for some reason he doesn’t understand, blacked-out Caleb chose to put THAT on his left ass-cheek. He thinks it over for a moment, filled with rage at first, but then takes a deep breath and decides to shrug it off. It’s actually kind of cool now that he takes a second glance.

After the Supreme Champion finishes up his shower, he struts back up to the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He is beginning to feel more awake, but heads to his travel bag and roots around for some Excedrin, of which he takes two in hopes that it will clear his head. As he reaches in his mini fridge for a bottle of water, Caleb feels one of the cats paw at his leg, so he bends down to pick it up. He starts stroking his cute, white kitten— wait, white kitten? Was this one already accounted for? That would be a no, and this would be cat number four. Lovely. Might be about time to find that phone and get some clues.

After lucking out and hardly searching the suite, he manages to find his cell phone inside of a pizza box, as well as a Ouija board under a couch cushion. He opens his phone to the time of 8:25 am, not too shabby for a night of epic, black-out partying. 122 new messages though. Caleb starts flipping through to see if there are any important messages that can help him retrace his steps.

Kaida Kagome: “Please lose this number.”

Caleb scoffs and smirks. ”She’ll come around,” he thinks while nodding confidently.

108-975: “This is confirmation of your order on PoopSenders.com. Your order of one gallon of elephant poop will be delivered to the recipient: DABID MICHALES — by Wednesday, March 3rd. Thank you for your patronage, we hope you use us for all of your future poop-related transactions.”

Caleb Spires: “Ha! Enjoy that, you son of a bitch.”

He continues scrolling.

CMS Trophies and Plaques: “Thank you for your order of five personalized plaques. Your order will be available for pick up Monday, March 1st at 9:00 am.”

That one is a bit puzzling. He’ll cross that road Monday. What else…

Unknown number: “bro, i can’t believe you ate that whole burrito in one sitting!!!”

“The Elite One” smiles triumphantly. He doesn’t remember this burrito, but judging by how his stomach is feeling right now, he’s sure that he accomplished a feat not many have succeeded in. But still, he isn’t coming across anything helpful. So he resorts to his back-up plan and tries his best to remember his chain of events from the night before. He lost to Ace Acid… then after hitting the showers, he and Razor came back and checked into their suites. And then… they went out? He’s still struggling to remember, so he calls his partnering hopes that he’ll pick up. Three rings later and his wish is granted.

Razor Xtreme: “Well, well, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you. How’s my precious boy doing?”

Caleb Spires: “Well, uhh, judging by that greeting I’ll assume you know I feel like complete shit… I’ve gotta be honest with you, I’m having a little bit of trouble remembering stuff right now. I’m pretty sure you and I went out after Massacre last night , and I was hoping you could help fill me in.”

Razor Xtreme: “...Last night?”

“The Elite One” pauses for a moment and shuts his eyes as he takes a deep breath, fearing this might be going in the direction he thinks it is.

Caleb Spires: “.....Yes.”

Razor Xtreme: “It’s Saturday, Caleb . We went out two nights ago. I never saw you at all yesterday. I was actually starting to get concerned that I hadn’t heard from you yet.”

Aaaaaaaand his suspicions were right as Caleb shuts his eyes again for a long, deep sigh, as the realization that his situation is worse than originally imagined sets in. Before he can ask any further questions, his partner dives into a mini-lecture for him.

Razor Xtreme: “Which, by the way, you’re never roping me into a night like that again. I hate seeing you act like that. You get out of control, and your ass is impossible to babysit.”

Spires takes another glance around his trashed suite.

Caleb Spires: “I’m not going to argue with you there. What time do we get back to the hotel?”

Razor Xtreme: “Couldn’t tell you. I got back to my room around 2:30. At that point you were refusing to leave the club and there was nothing I could do to get you.”

Caleb Spires: “What the hell? So you just left my drunk ass to fend for myself?”

Razor Xtreme: “Relax, if I left you by yourself you would have woken up in jail, a ditch, or not at all rather than your hotel. But I was too exhausted, I needed to get some sleep, and you weren’t ready to call it a “night” just yet, so I left you with Jameson.”

“The Elite One” takes a second to process that information as his eyes widen and his mouth drops open for a moment. He holds his phone down at his side until the faint ”Hello? Hello? Still there?” from Razor on the other line snaps him back into things.

Caleb Spires: “Okay, let me get this straight; Somehow, Jameson found out about our celebration, he met up with us, and you left blacked-out me in Christian fucking Jameson’s hands? What the hell, man?”

Razor Xtreme: “I know, crazy? What the hell was I thinking? I should have tried to convince your stubborn ass that it wasn’t a good idea for a seventh time, I’m sure that would have gotten the job done.”

The Supreme Champion sighs and rolls his eyes.

Caleb Spires: “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. At least things are starting to add up a bit better. I’m gonna need to call you back soon, I gotta talk to Christian real quick.”

Razor Xtreme: “Ha, good luck.”

Spires hangs up the phone and mentally prepares to talk to somebody that he hasn’t associated with in over eight years —- err, sober, that is. He goes through his contacts and finds the right number, sighs again, and gives it a call. After two rings, he gets an enthusiastic answer.

Christian Jameson: “He’s aliiiiive! Hahaha, bro, you were FUCKED UP yesterday!”

Ugh, what a douche.

Caleb Spires: “Heyyyy… bro. So, I’m just gonna cut to the chase. I think I may have had a little too much yesterday, I’m having a little trouble remembering some stuff—“

Christian Jameson: “I’d try to forget my night too if I ate that whole burrito. Props, my dude.”

Caleb Spires: “Man, I’m not concerned— wait, how big was it?”

Christian Jameson: “Forty ounces, bro.”

Caleb Spires: “FORTY OUNCES?! Oh my God, I’m the fucking master— wait, no, that’s not what’s important right now. I just woke up a little bit ago, and I need some help remembering things. Number one; did you know about this tattoo on my ass?”

Christian Jameson: “Know about it? I was in the room with you!”

Spires closes his eyes and moves the phone away from his mouth so that he can muffle a scream with his free hand. He takes a deep breath and continues.

Caleb Spires: “NICE, SO… why did you let me do that?”

Christian Jameson: “Why wouldn’t I? It’s fucking hilarious, bro! And you really wanted it, so I wasn’t gonna talk you out of it.”

SUCH. A. DOUCHE.

Caleb Spires: “I also have these cats in my suite—“

Christian Jameson: “For the love of GOD, please tell me it’s only two.”

The Supreme Champion looks around at his four wandering cats, the Siamese and the orange tabby staring each other down from a few feet apart, appearing ready to pounce on one another.

Caleb Spires: “Yes.”

Christian Jameson: “Good. When I left the suite, I made you PROMISE. That you wouldn’t go back and adopt more cats. Two new cats aren’t going to make the first two like each other.”

Caleb Spires: “....Noted. What went on here? This place is trashed.”

Christian Jameson: “Things got *c-rAzy* yesterday. You paid for another dayin the suite, we had a few friends come back, drank some brewskis, railed some white lightning, performed some underworld ritu—“

Caleb Spires: “Wait, WHAT? Y-You’re saying I did cocaine?”

Christian Jameson: “You really don’t remember? Fuck, man, you were so gone.”

Spires falls back against a nearby wall and slides all the way down to take a seat on the floor, looking down as he presses his arm up to his forehead.

Caleb Spires: “Christian, listen to me, I have been clean of cocaine for seven fucking years. I am not supposed to be anywhere around that shit.”

Christian Jameson: “Well, I’m sorry buddy, but you were around it for quite some time.”

Barely able to formulate thoughts, Caleb fumbles around with his words before he can mutter.

Caleb Spires: “How much did I do?”

Christian Jameson: “...Do you really want to hear?”

Complete silence as a few seconds pass, and Caleb still struggles to process his actions over the last few days.

Caleb Spires: “No thank you.”

Christian Jameson: “Well shit. I’m pretty sure I left some behind as a parting gift—“

Caleb Spires: “Thanks but no thanks. If I see it anywhere, I’ll just toss it. Look, man, I think you’ve helped me out enough here. I gotta go. I have to start cleaning this room up.”

Christian Jameson: “Before you go, thanks for putting in a good word for me!”

Caleb Spires: “What’s that, now?”

Christian Jameson: “I got a call from Dean Richardson this morning. He says that they’re interested in meeting with me and seeing if I’m the right fit for the company.”

Wide-eyed, Caleb begins repeatedly slamming his head back into the wall he is seated up against.

Christian Jameson: “I’ve been thinking for a while now… I miss it. I didn’t have the best career or anything, but I think I’d do a good job with a second chance.”

Hoping he can deter him, Spires is quick to reply.

Caleb Spires: “Are you sure, man? I mean, you put your body through so much in only a few years, you sure you want to go through that again? Might not be worth it all.”

Christian Jameson: “I’ve been considering this a long time. Seeing how happy you looked, and with how much you tried to convince me, I realized I had to give it at least one more shot.”

Good move, Caleb.

Caleb Spires: “Well, just make sure you pick a better fucking gimmick this time.”

Christian Jameson: “This again? You didn’t get enough fun out of this shit yesterday?”

Caleb Spires: “Be more creative and I won’t have to. I mean, seriously? Matt and Jeff’s cousin? That’s just pathetic, man. You look nothing like them, and they never even acknowledge your existence”

Christian Jameson: “I never said I was proud of that one. But ”be more creative?” Thanks for the gimmick advice, guy whose character has just been an amplified version of himself for 13 years.”

Caleb Spires: “Fuck off.”

Caleb hangs up the phone and once again sighs deeply as he takes a look around the suite that he should probably get to cleaning up before he leaves. He rounds up his cat crew and gets to business.

Roughly an hour passes before the suite looks presentable enough(outside of the broken table, whoops) to depart, as soon as execute a strategy to get the cats outside unseen. Otherwise packed up and freshly dressed, he gives his partner the call back he promised earlier as he keeps his right hand in his jacket pocket.

Razor Xtreme: “Hey, love. How did the chat with Jameson go?”

Caleb Spires: “About as well as I expected it to. I’m about to check out of the hotel. Are you still in Chicago? My train doesn’t leave for four hours, I’ve got some time to kill and could really use a nice spa visit right now.”

Razor Xtreme: “YES! I know the perfect place. I can have my driver at your hotel within twenty minutes.”

Caleb Spires: “Perfect.”

Razor Xtreme: “Have you had your coffee for the day yet, or are we going to have to stop somewhere?”

Spires pulls his hand out of his pocket, where he holds a small plastic baggy, full of Jameson’s “parting gift,” that still contains a considerable amount of well-more than an eight-ball. With a slight, somewhat-ashamed grin on his face, Caleb responds to his partner.

Caleb Spires: “We’re all good. No need to stop. See you soon.”
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Gopher
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Re: Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

Postby Gopher » Mon Mar 01, 2021 3:39 am

This was very entertaining. I got Hangover vibes instantly and then it continued in that direction and I was very invested. And then there was Bojack and cats and burritos, so many great things. While it seemed mostly fun and entertaining, things definitely took a turn into more serious matters later and I'm really interested in seeing how two things play out; the XWA debut of 'Jameson' (didn't realize who he was until he brought up talking to Dean and then I was like "... ooooooooh") and Caleb's issue from the past becoming an issue again. Very good work here. Super entertaining stuff that managed to set up several different stories going forward.
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king acid
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Re: Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

Postby king acid » Mon Mar 01, 2021 4:01 am

Great stuff man. This was an excellent blend of comedy and tragedy and I'm excited to see where it goes for The Elite One.
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Re: Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

Postby DaveyBoy » Mon Mar 01, 2021 11:30 am

This was an entertaining read and like Gopher said, I really got Hangover vibes from this and was just waiting for Tysoen to appear!!!

It didn't dawn on me when reading that was CJ (not Hardy) on the phone. Good way of reintroducing him to everyone and he already has 100% more character in this promo alone.

And I'm sure David will appreciate the gift.
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Re: Massacre #63: “Parting Gift”

Postby RazorXtreme » Tue Mar 02, 2021 8:03 am

My baby :(

This was amazingly written, like... perfect from start to finish. From him not remembering anything to the mysteries he keeps finding around (tattoo, the kitten, etc)

The humor was inserted perfectly and didn't detract whatsoever from the seriousness of the material in it.

CJ was inserted into this perfectly and I legitimately didn't even expect that.

Also, your handling of Razor was A++++ - you really understand his character perfectly even in an out-of-character promo ^_^ he was done so perfectly, along with everyone else. Just excellent!

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