Post by Deleted on Mar 7, 2018 21:06:36 GMT -8
FADE IN:
INT. RETIREMENT HOME — LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA — MARCH 7TH, 2018
Depressing is the only word that could describe the state of this retirement home located in the Korean district of Los Angeles. The house of the forgotten elderly is rather quiet. Not much interaction between the old folk that populates the home. A few watch the television set, some read, and a few just stare at nothing, just blank empty stares.
The places just reek of death as Jack Owyns stands in the middle of what some may refer to as an entertainment room with a look of disgust.
JACK OWYNS: Fuck, look at this shit? Shit is — Depressing, and that smell, it’s almost haunting. Look at them all just barely holding on, ready to croak at any minute now.
A smile forms on Jack’s face.
JACK OWYNS: HA! This place is fuckin’ perfect for him. He’d fit right in.
Behind Jack, a younger lady no older than 25 with long blonde hair walks up to Jack. She pokes the back of his shoulder.
BLONDE NURSE: Excuse me sir, but can I help you?
Jack turns around and looks down at the blonde nurse.
JACK OWYNS: Yes. I’d like to check somebody in on March 9th.
BLONDE NURSE: Well if you follow me, I can show you to the office and help get you started on the paperwork.
JACK OWYNS: Lead the way.
The blonde nurse spins on her heels and turns around facing the main doors that lead out of the entertainment room. She looks back over her shoulder and waves for Jack to follow.
BLONDE NURSE: So, are you planning to check in one of your parents?
JACK OWYNS: Nah.
BLONDE NURSE: A grandparent?
JACK OWYNS: Nah. However, if you look at the old wanker, he looks the fuckin’ age of a grandparent. All wrinkly and shit.
The nurse kept walking forward, but she takes a peek back; once again glancing over her shoulder back at Jack.
BLONDE NURSE: Then who are you checking in?
JACK OWYNS: Tap.
BLONDE NURSE: Sorry what?
JACK OWYNS: His name’s Tap, well that’s what the bastard goes by, but his name though is Tapioca Joe.
BLONDE NURSE: Are you related?
JACK OWYNS: HA! Fuck no.
BLONDE NURSE: Well how do you know him?
JACK OWYNS: Ah, he’s some old bastard that works for the same company as me you know. Nobody likes the guy, well I don’t. Fuck, beat him a few weeks back, but the old prick just couldn’t take his beating and fuck off, oh no. Had to have the rematch, must prove that I only beat him by luck. That I just defeated the bastard because he didn’t give it his all. You know that type of shit.
Jack spits on the floor.
JACK OWYNS: What the fuck you trying to prove Tap, huh? That you can still hang with this generation? Go toe to toe with me? You are fucking wasting your time because you can’t beat me. You had your chance, plenty of fuckin’ opportunity to beat me but no matter what you did I kicked out. I fuckin’ won at the end of the night. BUT JACK! You won because Noah interfered. Let me let you in on a little secret old man. I fuckin’ won because I outsmarted you, just like I will fuckin’ outsmart you at Manhattan Beach Invasion. WIN by any means necessary. That’s all that matters. It’s not about how you win; it’s about fuckin’ winning.
The blonde nurse has stopped, realizing now that she’s been on Camera the entire time. She fixes her dress and her hair.
JACK OWYNS: You should have left it alone TAP! Should have just went fuckin’ home and sulked in silence, but no you couldn’t, you had to open your mouth, you had to fuckin’ speak. This rematch will be the fuckin’ end of you because I’m not only going to beat your sorry ass again, I’m going to take that GWD immortal crown from you. Rip it right off your head and place it on my own. And what a fuckin’ sight that will be because you aren’t just losing the crown. No, you are losing something way more valuable than that aren’t you?
Jack smirks.
JACK OWYNS: That crown, the fuckin’ Immortal Crown was your last chance. Your last fuckin’ shot at getting your shot at the top title, the only thing you could never win. Your last and only card in the deck you had to play to get a shot to win the American Justice Championship and how does it feel to know that I’m going to take that card and rip it right out of your fuckin’ wrinkly old hands. Destroy your last fuckin’ dream.
Beat.
JACK OWYNS: You think without that fuckin' crown on your head you’d ever get another chance? You've already fuckin’ loss to the champion and come March 9th at the Manhattan Beach Invasion you’d have loss to me twice Joe. Fuckin’ TWICE!
Jack holds up both hands extending both middle fingers.
JACK OWYNS: You are done Joe, and see this place? This fuckin’ retirement home? This is where I’m going to put you because this is where you fuckin’ belong now with the rest of these washed up geezers that have no place in the world no more. Doing puzzles, watching info commercials and wonder why nobody ever comes to fuckin’ visit you anymore. This is where your piss poor story ends Joe. This is where you come to wait for your death.
A few, those that can still hear turn and look at Jack.
JACK OWYNS: And don’t worry old timer, it’ll do you one last solid. I’ll make sure to create your tombstone, pick the wording that fuckin' suits you. The dash yeah; that dash is what really matters right? Oh, I’ll put the truth in that dash and it will go something like this — 1800 never fuckin’ did shit 2018, HA!
Jack turns and walks off.
BLONDE NURSE: What about the paperwork!
The nurse yells down the corridor at Jack.
JACK OWYNS: I’ll be back on the fuckin’ 9th. Prepare a room.
Jack disappears out the front door.
FADE TO BLACK.
