Post by Gunnar Kincaid on Aug 13, 2016 18:55:35 GMT
OOC Note: This was co-written with Steffanie, handler of Psyche Devyne, who will be joining here shortly.
FADE IN:
EXT. THE CADILLAC CAFE – BATON ROUGE, LA – FRIDAY, AUGUST 12, 2016 – NIGHT.
The popular music venue is fairly busy with guests and patrons coming and going, as the setting sun bathes the building exterior with an inviting, warm glow.
CUT TO:
INT. THE CADILLAC CAFE – BAR – CONTINUOUS.
Inside the venue, PSYCHE DEVYNE sits, blonde, youthful porcelain skin, wearing a pair of black jeans and a ripped up band t-shirt, nursing a beer with a vexed expression etched across her face.
It’s a look that hasn’t gone unnoticed by the bartender – a young, slim-framed man with shaggy hair and a goatee.
He approaches.
TENDER
Friday night and a face like thunder?
Must be bad.
PSYCHE
(Staring at her drink)
It’s… complicated. Very complicated.
Friday night and a face like thunder?
Must be bad.
PSYCHE
(Staring at her drink)
It’s… complicated. Very complicated.
The blonde grits her teeth slightly, suggesting an irritancy at being questioned. She doesn’t ignore him though.
TENDER
(Pleasantly surprised)
Is that an English accent I hear?
(Pleasantly surprised)
Is that an English accent I hear?
Psyche simply nods, electing not to make a fuss.
TENDER
Very cool! My aunt lives in London!
Very cool! My aunt lives in London!
Silence. The tender gets back on topic.
TENDER
So why are things complicated?
PSYCHE
(Heaving a sigh)
I’ve just been told I’m not to continue
doing the one thing I love most. The one
thing that kept me connected to… someone.
It’s not something I was thinking I’d hear
today. Looks like things may get a bit
messy for me.
So why are things complicated?
PSYCHE
(Heaving a sigh)
I’ve just been told I’m not to continue
doing the one thing I love most. The one
thing that kept me connected to… someone.
It’s not something I was thinking I’d hear
today. Looks like things may get a bit
messy for me.
Beat. The bartender studies the blonde cautiously.
TENDER
The bad news blues, huh? We get that a
lot in here.
The bad news blues, huh? We get that a
lot in here.
Pause.
TENDER (Cont’d)
Y’know, feel free to tell me to mind mine,
but I’ve been doing this job for a few years
now and I can’t remember a time when talking
didn’t help someone.
PSYCHE
If this was any other time, I’d tell you to
sod off. But I’m thinking talking it out may
do me some good. That… or it’ll make me more
angry, which will in turn get me to buy more
drinks, which will give you more money. Win
win for you, huh?
Y’know, feel free to tell me to mind mine,
but I’ve been doing this job for a few years
now and I can’t remember a time when talking
didn’t help someone.
PSYCHE
If this was any other time, I’d tell you to
sod off. But I’m thinking talking it out may
do me some good. That… or it’ll make me more
angry, which will in turn get me to buy more
drinks, which will give you more money. Win
win for you, huh?
He smiles and shrugs innocently, before gesturing for her to continue.
PSYCHE
Alright… So, I’m a professional wrestler,
yeah?
Alright… So, I’m a professional wrestler,
yeah?
CUT TO:
INT. THE CADILLAC CAFE – BAR – NEXT SEAT DOWN – CONTINUOUS.
Psyche divulges her problems to the bartender, as GUNNAR KINCAID sits, long hair, beard, black leather jacket and black denims with timberland boots. He takes a swing of his beer; his ears pricked by the mention of wrestling.
PSYCHE (Cont’d, O.S)
...Get in a ring, beat down some slags to
let off some steam. I’ve been going through…
let’s just say it’s a rough patch. In this
rough patch, I decided to take it upon
myself to seek help; because apparently I
can’t deal with shit on my own.
...Get in a ring, beat down some slags to
let off some steam. I’ve been going through…
let’s just say it’s a rough patch. In this
rough patch, I decided to take it upon
myself to seek help; because apparently I
can’t deal with shit on my own.
Kincaid turns his whole body towards the blonde and the bartender, making it visibly apparent that he’s listening in.
PSYCHE (Cont’d)
Because of this, I’m now told that I can
no longer wrestle. I can’t be the one thing
I’ve wanted to be since I was a young child
because I’m not ‘of sound mind’; not thinking
right and all that. Load of bollocks, is
what it is.
TENDER
Wow, total bummer. What is it? Like stress
or something?
PSYCHE
You know, I wish I could tell you. Already
had people say it’s because of a breakup or
two. Hell… even someone’s cock was so good
it turned me crazy. Some bullshit like that.
I wish I knew, though.
Because of this, I’m now told that I can
no longer wrestle. I can’t be the one thing
I’ve wanted to be since I was a young child
because I’m not ‘of sound mind’; not thinking
right and all that. Load of bollocks, is
what it is.
TENDER
Wow, total bummer. What is it? Like stress
or something?
PSYCHE
You know, I wish I could tell you. Already
had people say it’s because of a breakup or
two. Hell… even someone’s cock was so good
it turned me crazy. Some bullshit like that.
I wish I knew, though.
Kincaid laughs before the bartender can respond. His chuckle attracts the attention of both parties. The blonde eyeballs Gunnar, eyebrow raised.
PSYCHE
Something funny, love?
GUNNAR
(Shaking his head)
I’m sorry, I just found the idea of being
driven crazy by good cock hilarious. I must
be doing something wrong; ain’t a woman alive
told me I sent them psycho.
PSYCHE
It’s nothing to write home about, to be
honest. I mean… for one thing, that would
be rather uncalled for, telling your mum
that you did something like that. But also
because it’s not impressive. Nor true.
Something funny, love?
GUNNAR
(Shaking his head)
I’m sorry, I just found the idea of being
driven crazy by good cock hilarious. I must
be doing something wrong; ain’t a woman alive
told me I sent them psycho.
PSYCHE
It’s nothing to write home about, to be
honest. I mean… for one thing, that would
be rather uncalled for, telling your mum
that you did something like that. But also
because it’s not impressive. Nor true.
Kincaid stands from his bar stool and heads towards Psyche, bringing his beer with him.
GUNNAR
(To the Tender)
Get the woman another drink – sounds like
a rough day. It’s on me.
(To the Tender)
Get the woman another drink – sounds like
a rough day. It’s on me.
The tender stares towards Psyche.
TENDER
Same again?
Same again?
She smiles and shrugs.
PSYCHE
Yes, thank you.
Yes, thank you.
She turns to focus on Kincaid.
PSYCHE
(Sarcastic tone)
So now you’re just going to take it upon
yourself to get me a drink? What are you
trying to do, hm? Get the crazy girl drunk
and take advantage of her?
GUNNAR
Get you drunk? Don’t get ahead of yourself,
sweetheart. I said one drink. My name isn’t
Rockefeller.
(Sarcastic tone)
So now you’re just going to take it upon
yourself to get me a drink? What are you
trying to do, hm? Get the crazy girl drunk
and take advantage of her?
GUNNAR
Get you drunk? Don’t get ahead of yourself,
sweetheart. I said one drink. My name isn’t
Rockefeller.
Beat. Psyche laughs.
GUNNAR (Cont’d)
Nah, as a matter of fact, I figured it would
be nice to buy a fellow wrestler a drink.
Camaraderie and all that shit, right?
Nah, as a matter of fact, I figured it would
be nice to buy a fellow wrestler a drink.
Camaraderie and all that shit, right?
He remains poker faced. The smirk Psyche wears fades instantly, collapsing to a frown.
PSYCHE
You mean former wrestler.
You mean former wrestler.
She shakes her head and takes a sip of the new beer the tender brought for her.
PSYCHE
I appreciate it anyways, I guess.
GUNNAR
(Nodding)
Don’t mention it.
I appreciate it anyways, I guess.
GUNNAR
(Nodding)
Don’t mention it.
He takes a swig from his own beer bottle, creating an awkward silence.
GUNNAR
So… What’s the deal? Why are they
shelving you? Injury, or?
PSYCHE
Let’s just go with injury of the brain.
A guy can wrestle with broken ribs, but
the minute you’ve gone a bit mental, you
can’t do shit all. And it’s not even that
bad. I ‘blackout’ from time to time. What’s
so wrong with that? I can still do things.
I just don’t remember what I do. I mean…
I do, but I don’t.
So… What’s the deal? Why are they
shelving you? Injury, or?
PSYCHE
Let’s just go with injury of the brain.
A guy can wrestle with broken ribs, but
the minute you’ve gone a bit mental, you
can’t do shit all. And it’s not even that
bad. I ‘blackout’ from time to time. What’s
so wrong with that? I can still do things.
I just don’t remember what I do. I mean…
I do, but I don’t.
Gunnar studies the blonde, a little concerned over what he may be dealing with here, as his expression suggests.
GUNNAR
So, what? You’re just celebrating this
shitty news by getting wasted?
PSYCHE
Thought I’d tap into the English in me
and do what I do best.
GUNNAR
Yeah, I caught that accent there. You’re a
long way from home. I thought I had
trekked a long way.
PSYCHE
Been a long way from home for a while. I
almost went back after… things. But I decided
to stay. Thinking about it now, I probably
should have gone home.
So, what? You’re just celebrating this
shitty news by getting wasted?
PSYCHE
Thought I’d tap into the English in me
and do what I do best.
GUNNAR
Yeah, I caught that accent there. You’re a
long way from home. I thought I had
trekked a long way.
PSYCHE
Been a long way from home for a while. I
almost went back after… things. But I decided
to stay. Thinking about it now, I probably
should have gone home.
Beat. The silence is a little uncomfortable, as Gunnar studies the neck of his beer bottle, scanning his mind for some conversation starters.
GUNNAR
Well… I got nothing, sweetheart. But since
we’re both in far away lands and at loose ends,
what’s say we have some fun?
PSYCHE
(Grinning)
You think you can keep up with me?
GUNNAR
Fuck it, why not? I’ve got a meeting
at ten a.m tomorrow – but I’ll worry
about that in the morning, right?
Well… I got nothing, sweetheart. But since
we’re both in far away lands and at loose ends,
what’s say we have some fun?
PSYCHE
(Grinning)
You think you can keep up with me?
GUNNAR
Fuck it, why not? I’ve got a meeting
at ten a.m tomorrow – but I’ll worry
about that in the morning, right?
As Psyche considers a response, Kincaid gestures for the bartender to return.
GUNNAR
(To the tender)
Lemme get a Sambuca shot, buddy.
(To the tender)
Lemme get a Sambuca shot, buddy.
The Canadian turns to the blonde.
GUNNAR
Shot?
PSYCHE
(to the tender)
Eh, sure. Make that two, love.
Shot?
PSYCHE
(to the tender)
Eh, sure. Make that two, love.
She smirks at Kincaid, eyeing him herself, now.
GUNNAR
(Extending his hand)
Jodi... But you can call me Gunnar.
PSYCHE
(Smiling, shaking his hand)
Psyche.
GUNNAR
Psyche?! Jesus, this'll be interesting.
(Extending his hand)
Jodi... But you can call me Gunnar.
PSYCHE
(Smiling, shaking his hand)
Psyche.
GUNNAR
Psyche?! Jesus, this'll be interesting.
--MONTAGE SEQUENCE
Music Playing: ‘Hard Lines’ - Yelawolf
- Psyche and Gunnar pounding shot after shot, glasses hitting the bar in harmony.
- The pair laughing and joking together at the bar, ignoring everyone around them.
- More shots being consumed, with every glass hitting the surface of the bar once more.
- Gunnar chugging a pint of beer, with Psyche egging him on to do so.
- The pair racing to finish fresh pints of lager, with Psyche narrowly consuming hers first and celebrating.
- The couple leaning into each other for “serious drunken chat”, with Psyche stroking Gunnar’s arm occasionally.
--END MONTAGE SEQUENCE
CUT TO:
INT. THE CADILLAC CAFE – PRIVATE BOOTH – LATER.
Both GUNNAR KINCAID and PSYCHE DEVYNE are heavily inebriated at this point, sitting together in a private booth. People, for the most part, are leaving the bar, as closing time is only moments away.
GUNNAR
(Drunken)
And so I says to the dude, I says:
“Bro, that ain’t chocolate!”
(Drunken)
And so I says to the dude, I says:
“Bro, that ain’t chocolate!”
The pair burst into ridiculous, uncontrollable fits of laughter, as Kincaid slaps the table.
GUNNAR
(Through laughter)
I thought he was gonna fucking die
on the spot!
PSYCHE
(giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush)
That’s hilarious! How did he not
know?
GUNNAR
(Shaking his head)
Beats me, sweetheart. Ah, what a
fucking blast that was.
(Through laughter)
I thought he was gonna fucking die
on the spot!
PSYCHE
(giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush)
That’s hilarious! How did he not
know?
GUNNAR
(Shaking his head)
Beats me, sweetheart. Ah, what a
fucking blast that was.
The pair settle down somewhat, allowing the laughter to dissipate.
GUNNAR
Anyway, about what we were talking
about earlier. I’m serious! You can
totally be my manager. I mean it.
We’d be badass together!
Anyway, about what we were talking
about earlier. I’m serious! You can
totally be my manager. I mean it.
We’d be badass together!
She shrugs her shoulders with a degree of uncertainty.
PSYCHE
I don’t know… I’d have to see what
you’re like in action first.
I don’t know… I’d have to see what
you’re like in action first.
She giggles and winks at him.
PSYCHE
But it would get me to stay in the
mix of things. Just doing something
different. Maybe!
GUNNAR
C’mon, what have you got to lose, eh?
You know it makes sense. Plus…
But it would get me to stay in the
mix of things. Just doing something
different. Maybe!
GUNNAR
C’mon, what have you got to lose, eh?
You know it makes sense. Plus…
He leans in towards the table slightly.
GUNNAR (Cont’d)
I’d even let you ride my Harley.
I’d even let you ride my Harley.
She breathes in excitedly.
PSYCHE
Oh really… And where would you take
me, hm?
GUNNAR
(Grinning confidently)
If you were my manager? Straight to the
top, baby!
Oh really… And where would you take
me, hm?
GUNNAR
(Grinning confidently)
If you were my manager? Straight to the
top, baby!
He laughs at his own joke – drunk and out of control. Before she can respond, the bartender approaches their booth with a wry grin.
TENDER
Have you had a good night, guys? You
certainly seem in better spirits, missy.
Have you had a good night, guys? You
certainly seem in better spirits, missy.
He addresses Psyche, who simply smiles. Kincaid nods and raises a glass in approval.
TENDER (Cont’d)
Well, the bad news is that’s last
orders. We’re locking up in a few
minutes. Just giving you a heads up.
Well, the bad news is that’s last
orders. We’re locking up in a few
minutes. Just giving you a heads up.
Gunnar looks disappointed, as Devyne rolls her eyes.
GUNNAR
(To Psyche)
Well that’s shitty. I’m not sure I’m
ready to call it a night.
PSYCHE
Yeah! We only just started having fun.
(To Psyche)
Well that’s shitty. I’m not sure I’m
ready to call it a night.
PSYCHE
Yeah! We only just started having fun.
She pouts, turning her head towards the tender.
PSYCHE
Thanks for the drinks, yeah?
Thanks for the drinks, yeah?
She stands up and grabs Kincaid’s hand, pulling him up with her.
PSYCHE
(to Gunnar)
We’ll just continue elsewhere. A place
that never closes.
(to Gunnar)
We’ll just continue elsewhere. A place
that never closes.
The pair share a seductive glance together.
CUT TO:
INT. THE RENAISSANCE HOTEL – EXECUTIVE SUITE – BATON ROUGE, LA – LATER.
Feral grunts and groans of unbridled passion and pleasure emanate from the room, with only the ankles and bare feet of PSYCHE DEVYNE visible. They hang in the air, as she screams with orgasmic delight.
CUT TO:
INT. THE RENAISSANCE HOTEL – EXECUTIVE SUITE – MORNING.
The king-size bed is occupied by both PSYCHE DEVYNE and GUNNAR KINCAID, burrowed underneath the white Egyptian cotton sheets. Devyne’s toned leg hangs off the edge of her side of the bed, while Gunnar’s arm drapes listlessly over his side.
The vibrations of a cellular phone rumbling on a hard surface buzz by the fighter’s ear, stirring him.
He groans and reaches out for the device. Following a pause, he panics and sits up, acknowledging the missed call.
GUNNAR
(Whispered)
Fuck… Fuck!
(Whispered)
Fuck… Fuck!
The time on his screen says 10:14am – some 14 minutes late for his meeting with PAW chairman, LADY MUNIN.
The big Canadian studies his surroundings for a moment, wrestling with himself over whether or not to alert the sleeping blonde.
He elects not to, instead stepping into his denims with fervor and collecting his belongings.
--MONTAGE SEQUENCE
- Gunnar sweeps his white t-shirt off the floor and throws it on hurriedly.
- He grabs his boots and slips one on after the other, neglecting to tie the laces.
- Kincaid grabs his watch and his wallet, slipping them into his jacket pocket.
- He stares down at Psyche – still sleeping – and then leaves the suite with haste, closing the door behind him.
--END MONTAGE SEQUENCE
PSYCHE DEVYNE stirs, the sound of the door closing waking her from slumber. Her hand goes to her head as her face scrunches up in pain.
PSYCHE
(Groggy)
Ugh, Jesus.
(Groggy)
Ugh, Jesus.
The blonde studies the room, taken aback by the severity of the mess and the crumpled sheets on the side of the bed next to her.
PSYCHE
(Concerned tone, quiet)
Bloody hell. What happened?
(Concerned tone, quiet)
Bloody hell. What happened?
Devyne exits her bed gingerly and heads for the bathroom, examining her disheveled reflection in the mirror. It shocks her.
PSYCHE
(To herself)
Think, woman, think. I don’t even
remember leaving the doctors.
(To herself)
Think, woman, think. I don’t even
remember leaving the doctors.
The blonde heaves a sigh, before heading for her shorts and t-shirt on the floor. As she slips into them, it suddenly hits her. She pauses.
PSYCHE
(To herself)
Oh my God, this is exactly like the other
week. Someone must be pranking me.
I know I couldn’t have done this.
(To herself)
Oh my God, this is exactly like the other
week. Someone must be pranking me.
I know I couldn’t have done this.
She runs her hands through her long, blonde hair, looking visibly stressed out and uncomfortable.
PSYCHE
(Shouting aloud)
Fucking cunts. Just leave me the
fuck alone!
(Shouting aloud)
Fucking cunts. Just leave me the
fuck alone!
The blonde buries her head in her hands, overcome by the situation.
END.