The door opens and in walks
DAMIAN COLE. He is sporting jeans and a gray t-shirt with black lettering that reads "Cole Mine Wrestling." All eyes are on Damian as he makes his entrance.
DAMIAN COLE
I'm sorry I'm late.
BUTCH WALSH
It's pretty discourteous that
you cannot even give a call.
DAMIAN COLE
Hey, I apologized.
COUNSELOR KELLER
Alright, why don't we
get started, shall me?
Damian takes a seat next to Max, who now sits in between his parents.
COUNSELOR KELLER
The reason I have asked you all in here
today is that as you know, we have a little
situation on our hands, and I thought it would
be best if we all sat down to see if we can
nip this thing in the bud before it escalates.
BUTCH WALSH
I don't know what there is to discuss. Max bit my son--
Damian shoots a look at Butch and interrupts him.
DAMIAN COLE
Excuse me? Have you seen my son's eye?
BUTCH WALSH
He bit my son, and he should be expelled!
Counselor Keller raises his hand to calm everyone down.
Damian throws his hands in the air in frustration.
COUNSELOR KELLER
Alright, alright, lets all just relax. Now
we have conflicting reports about what took
place, so lets not jump to any conclusions.
Russell, why don't you tell us what happened.
RUSSELL
Max bit me--
MAX
I only bit him because--
COUNSELOR KELLER
Max, you will have your turn in a moment.
Max is silenced. The look on Damian's face says it all-- he is getting pissed.
COUNSELOR KELLER
Russell, please continue.
RUSSELL
I was in rec hall playing checkers and
Max came over and he bit me on my arm.
Russell folds his hands and looks over at Max with a sneer.
COUNSELOR KELLER
Alright Max, what do you have to
say about that? Did you bite Russell?
MAX
I did, but--
COUNSELOR KELLER
Now Max, you know that biting is wrong.
BUTCH WALSH
You're damn right it is.
Damian rises to his feet.
DAMIAN COLE
You know what-- this is
bullshit. Max, stand up.
MAX
What, dad?
DAMIAN COLE
Stand up, Max.
Max obeys his father and rises from the chair. Damian addresses both Counselor Keller and Butch Walsh.
DAMIAN COLE
Take a look at this boy. He's not even eight years
old yet. He's four foot eight, weighs seventy pounds.
Your boy's what, eleven? He's giant next to Max. And
we all know what happened. Your boy and his friends
were picking on Max's buddy Alex-- you know, the skinny
little kid with the glasses and the asthma problem-- and
Max intervened. And so your kid and his friends hit him.
BUTCH WALSH
That's nonsense-- you're boy
just admitted to biting Russell!
COUNSELOR KELLER
Mr. Cole, if you can
please just have a seat.
An awkward moment of silence envelopes the room, as all eyes are on the standing Damian.
Damian looks to Max.
DAMIAN COLE
Max, I'm going to ask you
this once-- did you bite Russell.
MAX
(sheepishly)
Yes.
Butch Walsh and has wife have satisfied grins on their faces.
DAMIAN COLE
Max, listen to me. You cannot bite. The
next time something happens, I want you
to punch Russell right in his nose. In
fact, as soon as we get back home, I'm
gonna teach you exactly how to do it.
Counselor Keller is wide-jawed.
Butch Walsh rises to his feet. He is a mammoth of a man, towering over Damian.
BUTCH WALSH
Now listen--
DAMIAN COLE
Max, cover your ears.
Max cups his ears with both hands.
DAMIAN COLE
Russell, you may want to
cover your ears as well.
Damian sizes Butch Walsh up.
DAMIAN COLE
What do you do for a living?
BUTCH WALSH
I coach football over at Camden Tech.
DAMIAN COLE
Good for you. I fuck people up for a living.
And the next time your son or any of his
friends so much as look at my son the wrong
way, you and I are gonna have more than words,
and you're not gonna like it. Are we clear?
There's a stare down. Damian's staring right through the husky football coach-- the same I'm-not-fucking-around stare that he opens every match with. Butch diverts his eyes.
DAMIAN COLE
Julia, Max, let's go.
* * *
Until now, as the new guy, I've been able to fly under the radar here in Second City. My first match was a triple threat with Kyle Cross and Jared Schorg. It was an instant classic, a back and forth war, in which I came up short. But it was a tremendous experience to go to put on a show with a man whom I have always respected.
My second match out was with Equinox-- a hardcore veteran who took me up on my offer to lay the weapons down for one night and put on a wrestling showcase for the people of Crown Point, Indiana. It was another war that marked by first victory in Second City, and at the end of the night, Equinox and I left it all in the ring, and I have nothing but admiration for him for the fight he gave me.
My third outing was last week, Cibernetico Assemble. Ten competitors, each giving their all for a chance at a shot at gold. I was fortunate enough to not only come out on top, but to have gained invaluable experience from nine of the top wrestlers in this game.
Marty told me that I can only fly under the radar for so long, that the brighter I shine, the larger the bullseye would be on my chest. Those words proved true when not even hours after my win last week, the verbal assault began from the Second City faction that has come to be known as the Young Moderns-- the attacks, the promises, the threats.
I made it clear from the first day I was here that I was not looking for any trouble. I'm here to do my job, live out my passion, and provide a check to get my family out of the financial mess I created for them by way of my past indiscretions. However, it's become clear to me that there is no more flying under the radar. As Marty warned me, there would come a time when I would have to get my hands dirty. That time is now.
I'm speaking to Jason Richards, but I'm also speaking to the Young Moderns as a whole. Nobody likes a bully, and I in particular don't like bullies. I get it-- I get the power-in-numbers mentality that always seems to rear its ugly head in a sport driven by ego and pride. Factions are safe. Factions are territorial. Factions are corrupt. It's bullying in its most primitive form.
Last week I learned something fighting in the Cibernetico Assemble battle. While this is sport that focuses on the individual, sometimes it is important for individuals to band together for a greater good. So I'm calling on others to join me in driving out the Young Moderns. I'm calling on men like Jason Aries, JP Caliban, Jordan Ciserano, Adam Stryker, and others.
Now let me make two points very clear. I am not a leader, nor do I have any desire to assume any such role. That's one. Second, I recognize that we all have our differences. But I know that this is what bullies prey on-- that the differences that divide individuals will frustrate the unity necessary to stand up to the faction. There is time to put aside differences, if even for a passing moment, and that time is now.
As for you, Jason, you talk a tough game. We're gonna see if you can back up those words. Come Clash at the Coliseum, I plan on teaching you a lesson in humility.