Post by J on Jul 23, 2021 17:49:30 GMT -5
Art Of War
//OFF CAMERA//
I: Woke Up This Morning
July 22nd
Reno, Nevada
He had completely lost the sense of place and time, his surroundings, the room he was hiding out in and humid desert heat with the busted AC in the motel. Laying there in those cold sweat soaked sheets, hair a matted mess and feeling clammy all over he managed to roll out of bed. Stumbling to the TV, twiddling a remote for a bit before Alabama 3’s classic plays out.
~You woke up this morning got yourself a gun~
In his underwear Ricky Rhodes walked over to the worn out couch and crash landed on it, letting the bass and the choir take him away from Reno all the way to New Jersey some decade of years ago.. If only things worked out like in life like they always did in Sopranos. He had been having some nightmares of the meeting with Nico and Vincenzo ahead of their match in the previous Revolution against the crush except in his dream Nico kept pulling the damn gun at him and instead of the click of the safety, he had gotten shot. Again and again and again.
What the hell was he supposed to do? He was twitchy, he was nervous, scared even if he wouldn’t dare to admit it. Nico says it was a joke or a test depending how drunk he was yet Ricky had this feeling that he just couldn’t shake that Nico Ludovico Pazzini actually wanted to kill him and what gave him the creeps was the fact that had he died on that day, Riina and Pazzini would have buried him in the desert, the mob had done that for years what’s another body, another hole in the sand gonna change? His hands were shaking as he reached for a pack of Marlboro reds. His brand of choice even if he had told Camilla he had quit ages ago..
Slowly he got up and staggered to a window, cracking it open a few inches he could, managing to stick the cigarette between his lips, he had to use both hands to steady the lighter enough though. Filling his lungs with that tar, nicotine and bliss deep breaths, he leaned in to blow out the smoke through the crack. He could get his vengeance on Nico, get the drop on him like Tony Soprano did on that rat bastard, choke him out with some cables. Wrapping them tight, squeezing and listening to Nico gasp for air, groan and gargle..fucker could have shot him and what did he do? Nothing, had a drink with him and that stone faced stooge Riina, putting over the pair of them and going into the ring with them to beat THE CRUSH, celebrating afterwards
~“Jason, don’t put pinecones in the filter! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?” ~
He threw the butt out and shook his head.
Who the fuck was he kidding? He couldn’t kill Nico, he wasn’t Tony Soprano. Hell he wasn’t even Tony Blundetto..he was not a killer..or a gangster. He crammed the window shut smelling the humidity, stale sweat and last night’s drinks in the air of the dump he called a room, it’s been far too long. They had pulled that shit on him. Vincenzo and Nicky, if they were in on it together. Of course they had to be, Riina just sat there the stone faced fuckwad and Nico with his Scarface act..guy couldn’t even do a cuban accent, he was no Al Pacino, well maybe he was as tall as Al Pacino but he lacked the charisma, the skills everything about it. Yet HE was the real G..real fuckin’ Goombah maybe. Ricky punched himself in the head a few times to rattle this thought process of his going, he had to do something. He needed to fix this, they had a match coming soon..this shit needed to be settled one way or another. Finally he gathered up what courage he had left and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he knew by heart now. On the third tone he got a pickup.
“Yeah it’s me, we gotta meet. There’s something I need to tell you..alone.”
He listened and gulped.
“See you there.”
He had no time to shower, or clean up. This shit had to be done, NOW.
II: The Meet
Meetings in the desert always made Ricky nervous, it was a scary place. He knew about the holes in the desert and why those had been dug up in the first place and everywhere he looked could have been a hole. He pulled out a cigarette lighting it up and stood there looking as disheveled as he could the mane of hair matted on his head, decent week long stubble of unkempt beard on his face at least. Covering up his bloodshot eyes with a pair of big sunglasses.
Normally his chance of meeting this person meant he had a 99 percent chance out of a hundred to leave with his life, this time however when they told him to meet them a couple hundred yards down the road Ricky gave himself the odds of fifty-fifty and even that seemed somewhat optimistic. Soon enough a cloud of dust approached, a silver Cadillac. Ricky had driven to the meeting point with some hunk of junk Japanese car industry’s gem from at least four decades ago and they pulled up with a caddy, something set the scales from the get go, of course they had always known how to make an entrance. The silver Cadillac had barely stopped when they jumped out of the vehicle slamming the door behind them and a index finger pointed right at him.
“YOU! Get that shit out of your mouth right now!”
Before he had a chance to comply Ricky got such a smack it sent the cigarette flying out of his mouth. He was lucky to have his sunglasses on because the person he looked at was intimidating enough despite their stature and build: Camilla Pazzini.
Camilla: How many times have I told you to knock that shit out, I don’t like you smoking. That fucking shit is going to fucking kill you and if you think you are gonna put me through another funeral of my man in this lifetime you better get your fuckin’g army pal!
She was mad, fuming, without a doubt glaring at him.
Camilla: Well? Take those fucking sunglasses off.
When Ricky pocketed the shades, she saw the bags under his eyes, the bloodshot eyeballs.
Camilla: Jesus fucking Christ Ricky you look like stir fried shit. When’s the last time you slept?!
She sniffed the air and frowned in disgust.
Camilla: Nevermind that when’s the last time you had a shower?!
She eyed him up and down and the Santa Clara native looked like he was ready to burst into tears if you even raised your voice to him. Knowing him too well the Sicilian lowered her voice to softer, calmer one.
Camilla: Richard..you are worrying me, what’s going on?
That was all she needed, this woman could have snapped him in half if she wanted to but she didn’t even raise her voice to him and it opened up the floodgates. Ricky dropped down and told her what went down between him, Nico and Riina before the match against the Crush she stood there, listening to every word he had to say without interrupting him once, after he stopped she looked at him.
Camilla: Was that it, did you tell me everything that happened?
Ricky: That’s everything, I think he tried to kill me..
Camilla: You sure that was everything?
Ricky: Yes.
Camilla: Swear?
Ricky I swear! What the fuck am I suppose to do Cammie?!
She grabs him by the scruff of the neck and yanks the wiry man up with ease. Before speaking again.
Camilla: First of all, you never, ever repeat a single word of what you just told me, to ANYBODY. Not Nico, Not Vinnie, Not to anyone. You do not bring this shit up again, ever around anyone and that especially includes my sister, you fucking got that?
He nods. Watching her fire up in anger she’s pacing back and forth.
Camilla: That little shit, my own goddamn nephew of all people. That little motherfucker. It’s bad enough that I have to put up with his bullshit and that zombie Riina watching over everything that goes on and my sister’s bullshit but now I gotta be worried about them putting a fuckin’ move on YOU!?
Ricky: I’m sorry Cammie, I didn’t know what the fuck to do..
Camilla: You did the right thing, they don’t know that I know now. You did good by telling me, but what you need to do next is to clean yourself the fuck up. You have a match this Saturday and I need you guys to move on with the tournament. Everything needs to be just the way it was. Act like you usually act, talk as much shit as you have to put up with this bullshit and move forward those titles need to be won Richard, do not fuck this one up.
He shook his head.
Ricky: No, fuck that shit I can’t be teaming with a pair of sociopath’s like them Riina must be talking to Isabella about everything already and Nico too she must know by now, why do I have to hide it.
She scoffs looking at him.
Camilla: Of course she fuckin’ knows why do you think she sent that goon of hers along with you, to protect YOU?! Nico is like a son to that old cow and Riina is here to watch over him. The fact is that they MUST HAVE told her but she didn’t tell ME, because she knew I’d put Nico through a wall, she didn’t tell me because she wants to keep acting like this goody two-shoes shit in front of the camera for the fans and wants nothing to ruin that image of hers.
Now Ricky was rambling on too.
Ricky: This shit is bad, you two should have never come to Reno, this is going to make shit just worse if only you would have asked me in advance so that I could have..
She put up her palms
Camiilla: Wait, what, hold up, hold up, back the fuck up! Asked you? When the HELL have I needed to ask you a fucking thing? I am Camilla Pazzini, and you only exist in this industry because of me! I helped you in Memphis. I've been backing you up since your mommy and daddy put your money on ice, without ME? Riina, Nico, Bella and every goddamn wrestler worth their salt would be coming for a piece of your narrow ass and THEN where would you go, huh?! Get this to your head you Rich boy motherfucker, I am what counts here, this is my town if I fucking say so and I am the only one who stands between you and the rest of them! Don’t ever go talking over my head again like I don’t matter, you got that?!
He was nervous, his voice cracked as he was talking back.
Ricky: Look, I didn’t sign up for this I wouldn’t even be here if you had given me an ounce of respect for what I did!
She glares at him frowning as he goes on.
Ricky: Yeah, remember how you were talking to Bella about how I was 210 pounds of dead weight you had to lug around or some shit. I had to show up here and prove myself to you!
Camilla: Bullshit, nobody told you to get in the motherfucking ring you could have been a manager and be safe at ringside you WANTED to be in the ring!
Ricky: Yeah, yeah I fucking did want to be in the ring because this way they can’t look down their noses at me, like I don’t know shit about wrestling. If I’m in the ring I can fight back and defend for myself--
Camilla: Yeah like aggravate a bunch of angry hicks from Arkansas.
Ricky: oh fucking hell here we go..you too?
Camilla: You had to get fancy with that poor kid, a fucking mental midget.
Ricky: Look, that’s uncalled for.
Camilla: THAT POOR BOY ISN’T RIGHT IN THE HEAD RICKY yet you had to try and play some mind games with him, acting like a big man getting Nico and Vinnie barred from ringside and having the whole ring surrounded by fuckers who hate you..
Ricky: Yeah maybe I overestimated my plan but..
Camilla: Maybe?! I’ve seen pigeons make smarter plays. You pushed him too far, should have reeled it in sooner but you insisted on making a fucking spectacle of yourself and look what happened?!
He chuckles, wiping some tears from his eyes.
Ricky: Fucking months ago, we’ve turned a corner since. Once we meet those scruffy sons of bitches in the tournament we’ll settle some business.
She smiled, just a little but enough for him to see it.
Camilla: That’s more like it. Now get your head on right, clean up dress nice and for fuck’s sake keep your head on straight!
He seemed a bit offended.
Ricky: Hey?! I always dress nice, haven’t you seen my threads?
Camilla: It's precisely what I’m afraid of Rick, those “threads” of yours, what’s wrong with good ol’ black suits?
Ricky: Gotta bring the Drip yo!
She shakes her head.
Camilla: Sounds like you’ve spent too much time around my nephew, you watch it with that fake ass gangsta shit and don’t you ever let me catch you smoking again, you Santa Clara rat motherfucker you!
She gets in slams the door shut and revs the engine before speeding away, leaving Ricky in the cloud of dust watching the Cadillac disappear.
He needed a goddamn smoke.