Post by Gerard Angelo on Sept 24, 2018 21:58:21 GMT -5
Survival.
It’s the single most important thing to ever happen in the history of the universe. It’s how life comes to exist and thrive. By surviving. Hell, If the first bacteria that formed in the primordial ooze of a cooling rock orbiting around a burning ball of gas didn’t survive, then nothing we know would exist.
Survival is the basic building block to life.
The gazelle tries to survive by out running the lion, and the lion tries to survive by hunting the gazelle.
Sometimes surviving is just as good as winning.
Almost.
That’s exactly what happened to Gerard Angelo last week on Trauma. He didn’t beat Crazy Boy, he survived him. Not that Gerry would ever admit it out loud, but he knew Tyrone Smith gave him a real test and if it wasn’t for one mistake by Smith, he could’ve been the one staring at the lights.
But a victory still goes down in the record books as a ‘W’, no matter if it was a squash or squeaking a win out.
Survival is, at it’s basic core, adapting to a certain situation to give yourself the greatest probability of succeeding. Evolution, if you will. For millennia countless species on this planet have been adapting for survival. Some animals, like the shark or crocodile, perfected it in relatively not time at all. Others like the brown mouse, are still evolving.
That’s what Gerard Angelo is doing, albeit on a much smaller scale. Each week he adapts to survive each match in PCW. Each week he tries to evolve into a competitor that can reach the very top of the company. Evolve into the man that stands head and shoulders above everyone in Pure Class Wrestling. This isn’t an over night process. The evolution will take plays over weeks and months, perhaps years. But it will happen. The fittest always survive. And in Gerard’s mind, there is no one better suited for that then himself.
He had been doing it all his career in wrestling. In every company he’s been employed at. He adapted to become the top guy in each of them. Gerard Angelo even brought those skills to Hollywood, where they were needed just as much, if not more then in wrestling.
Hollywood was a jungle with a cracking paint of glitz and glamour on it trying to cover up the fact that it was just another place where predators and prey roamed together trying to survive. This wasn’t about eating each other (well, you never know about that in this place). It was a struggling actor trying got survive by waiting tables at a restaurant where the patrons treated him as sub-human. It was a struggling actress trying got survive by letting some ‘director’ or ‘producer’ relieve themselves in an orifice to try and get that big break. It was the shadowy figures that ran the industry preying on everyone else to stay at the top.
Gerry had been surviving in the jungle of Hollywood for the last few years. Not thriving, but holding his own. It had all started with his breakout in the feature film Gotham opposite of Willem DaFoe. His career exploded after that with role after role, some guest spots on television shows, cameos in movies, and more featured films starring him. There were even rumors of Gerard being offered the role of James Bond, though that has never been confirmed.
Yet like a lot of people in Hollywood, Gerry’s fire wasn’t burning as hot as it once was a few years ago. The movie roles weren’t pouring in like they used too. Even the ones that did were shitty roles. The television show which had been so good in the first two seasons had fallen off in the last two. The only thing that was missing from Gerard’s Hollywood death blow was a traffic stop with a DUI and a narcotics charge.
Gerard Angelo was a survivor though. He was resilient. Both in the ring and in Hollywood. He would bounce back. At least that’s what he hoped as he sat in the waiting area of his managers office.
Jimmy’s office was small and dingy, lit by flickering florescent lighting. It consisted of a small waiting room with about six chairs, all different, a small desk and the door to Jimmy’s tiny office. Gerard often wondered with all the money Jimmy takes from him, why could;t he afford a better place. Maybe that was why Gerard was his only client. Gerry looked over at the desk and admired Jimmy’s secretary/ assistant Monica. At five foot four and hundred and twenty pounds, with gorgeous dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes, she was the only good part about making a trip to Jimmy’s office. She looked up from her phone call and flashed Gerard a bright smile and he smiled back. If this was five years ago, Gerry would’ve blown off the meeting and convinced Monica to blow him in the elevator. But that was then and this is now, he learned that Jimmy didn’t appreciate his client shooting a cum shot across his secretaries face during business hours. Those were the good ol’ days, he thought to himself.
Gerry is snapped from his musing as the wooden door to Jimmy’s office is swung open violently, it slamming into Monica desk causing a loud yelp to emanate from the small girl. Out of the office stride three Japanese men. The first two men were average size, yet they looked like men you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. The third man was so massive he had to duck and go sideways to get out of Jimmy’s office. The man looked like he was going to become a sumo but changed his mind half way through and went and lived in the weight room. The first man lit up a cigarette as they were walking out, throwing a lewd glance at Monica before turning and saying something to his buddies in his native tongue, which got a laugh. Gerry didn’t know Japanese but he knew when someone was saying something disrespectful. He shot the men a glare which didn’t go unnoticed as the three men stared him down on their way out. Gerard stood up as he didn’t break his gaze as they exited. The mountain of a man stopped, looked Gerry up and down, laughed and left. Gerard stared after them as they left before he heard Monica’s soft voice behind him.
“Um… Jimmy will see you now.”
Gerry turned and shot a smile at the short girl as he started to walk into the office.
“Those guys are assholes, huh?” He asked, which got a laugh from her. He entered the office and shut the door behind him. He looked up to see his friend and agent of the last five years chugging whiskey from a bottle of Jim Beam.
“Whoa! Easy there Jimbo,” Gerry said as he walked over and grabbed the bottle, pushing it down, “Jim Beam isn’t that good.”
Jimmy stared up at his friend with blood shot eyes, almost as if he didn’t recognize him. Jimmy looked terrible. He was unshaven and he looked like he had lost even more hair on his head. the sheen of sweat on his balding head was thick and reflecting the light in the room and had soaked his white collar shirt to almost see through.
“Gerry, what are you doing here?” asked Jimmy. “Our meeting isn’t until Monday.”
“It is Monday, bud.”
Jimmy put his elbows on his messy desk and put his face in his hands. Gerard sat in the chair across from him. There was something up and he knew it had to have something to do with the three men who just left.
“You good, bro?” Gerry asked, hoping to get to the bottom of this. “What was with those guys who just left?”
Jimmy looked up from his hands suddenly. “Nothing. Don’t worry about them. They were just here looking for..erm… advice on a script they wrote. Yup.” Jimmy smooth out his hair on his head as Gerard gave him a raised eyebrow, Gerard didn’t believe Jim for a second but he decided to drop it.
“So what did you call me to come all the way here for, and not be ready for our meeting.” Gerry tried to tease light heartedly to change the subject and the overall vibe in them room. Jimmy waved him off.
“I called you here because I wanted to let you know they want to start filming Iron Horse in November.”
A grin split across Gerard’s face and he reached across the desk and gave his friend a few smacks in the shoulder. Jimmy made a few grimaces of pain and rubbed his shoulder.
“This is awesome man. Finally, this is the big break I need.” Angelo said as he leans back in his chair throwing his feet up on he desk. “This is gonna change everything. We’re gonna have major movie deals rolling in by the shit ton, my friend.”
“I sure hope so…” Jimmy mumbles. Gerard takes note of it but decided to just ignore it for now.
“Come on man. Lets go swing by your place to so can get changed, and then we will go to Guigino’s. My treat.”
Jimmy finally cracks a smile at that.
==========
Posted to Gerard Angelo’s Twitter account at 7:26 PM
The cell phone video opens to Gerard Angelo sitting in the back of a limousine. He’s dressed to the nines in a grey pinstripe suit with a royal blue tie. He takes a sip of scotch from a rocks glass before shooting the camera smirk.
“Ladies and gentleman, once again The Hollywood Hero did exactly as he said he was gonna do. And that was beat Crazy Boy. Now it may not have been such a decisive victory as I thought but a win is a win, baby. Tyrone, you put up one hell of a fight man, but Gerard Angelo was the better man.” Gerry says, grinning for the world.
“Now this week, once again I have to wrestle a man who only decides to show up to work when he feels like it. A man who only shows up to work when he’s not trying to lose his virginity, finally. I’m talking about Muscles Malone.” Gerry takes another long sip from the glass. ”Aside from that, I don’t know much about Mister Malone, so I’m going to do the thing I do better then anybody else in this company, and anybody in the world. Go out there and be the best damn wrestler in the world. So Muscles you can come to Trauma. You can flex. You can wiggle the tube sock stuffed in your trunks at every body. But at the end of the day you are going to wind up as just another person who helped the legend of Gerard Angelo grow.”
“So right now I’m going to go have an expensive dinner, with some expensive booze. I’m not going to sweat Muscles Malone. Because on my worse day I’m still the better man. I could go out every night this week and twice before our match on Thursday, rail and eight ball to my face and pound a bottle of Glennfiddich, and I’ll still be better then him. I’m going to make an example of Malone to prove I deserve better in PCW. That I deserve to be taken seriously. Good luck, Malone. You’re gonna need it.”
That’s how the video ends.
=========
A car pulls up to a pier in NYC. The lights shut off and four men get out of the car. Igor lights up a cigarette with a match, flicking the burnt piece of wood into the water. It felt good for Igor to get back to work. Since his botched assassination attempt of the wannabe senator, which brought more heat on the entire operation then wanted, he thought he was done for. Pytor had assured him though that he would be fine and Mister Semenov’s friends in the police department and the FBI would take care of anything. He rubbed the side of his face where the old man had shatter a glass vase , nearly blinding him and leaving him with a nasty scar.
“When are they suppose to show up?” Igor asked Pytor in Russian. Pytor clapped Igor on the shoulder and smiled.
“Don’t worry, they are here.”
The four men walked down towards the water. Igor looked up at all the large ships, wondering which one held the five kilos of cocaine they were suppose to pick up. The drugs wasn’t unusual, as Mister Semenov dabled in all illicit activities, it was just the size. Igor guess that was why Mister Semenov sent his men to pick it up, rather then just having it delivered. Igor smiled, flicking his cigarette into the ocean as he wondered if anyone would notice if he took a little bit of coke for himself. His daydream was cut short when he felt cold steel press against the back of his bald head.
“No hard feelings.” said Pytor. That was the last thing Igor heard as the trigger was pulled and a large splash was heard as Igor feel into the harbor, blood and brain matter floating at the top of the brine.