Post by Rotten Mark Keaton on Jan 14, 2022 15:33:15 GMT -6
Kevin raised his head after an overly loud knock on his motel room door. He picked up his cellphone and noted it was just after 11 am and it was time to check out.
“I’m checking out guy, give me a second to get dressed!” He waited, then sat up when he heard the motel employee stomp off into the distance. He scratched his head then looked around on the floor for his eye patch in the mess of empty chip bags and beer bottles. His head was pounding from a hangover and his throat was insanely dry. He knocked his cellphone off of the bed with his hand by accident as he looked under the bed. He saw that he missed a text from Slutty Melons so he picked it up to read it.
I think we should meet to discuss a few things -
He smirked, it's exactly what he wanted to do himself. He pressed the phone symbol next to her name then put the phone to his ear. Kevin lit a cigarette while he waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” The slightly raspy, yet sexy voice of Slutty Melons answered.
“Hey, it’s me. We can’t talk for long but let’s set up a meeting place to talk in person.”
“What do you mean, we can’t talk for long?”
“Listen,” Kevin flicked his cigarette in frustration, “I don’t have time to explain it by telephone lady, let's get this arranged. Now.”
“Alright, I’m heading downtown here in an hour. Let’s meet at La Franco’s Restaurant. I’ll make sure you’re allowed in.”
“Sure.” Kevin hung up. He never even heard of La Franco’s Restaurant in Toronto, he thought it was probably some mom and pops joint behind an empty warehouse or something. He stood up, threw on his black splash pants and tattered jean jacket then put his hand on the door knob. He slowly turned it, then opened the door just enough to peek his head out. He could see the motel employee arguing with one of the cleaners by the desk, he quickly snuck out and jogged to his car. He fired up the engine then squealed out of the parking lot. Kevin laughed as he pushed a cassette tape into his stereo to listen to an old Led Zep album. He thought of the incredible mess and destruction he left in the motel room and how much it would cost to repair all of it.
—--------------
One hour, twenty three minutes later at La Franco’s Restaurant
Kevin finally found a parking spot half a block away from the restaurant. He left his car unlocked and walked by the meter without putting money in it. It was brisk out and he regretted not wearing an extra layer of clothes today, he jogged the remaining twenty feet before yanking open the double doors and rushing in the lobby. He blew warmth into his hands and rubbed them together. He immediately raised his eyebrows, what a fancy place! Red carpet entryway, waiters dressed in suits, gold plating accents on every piece of furniture he could see, and an expensive smelling spray that he wasn’t used to. Where’s the stale smell of cigarettes and body odor? This was not his scene at all. The maitre d motioned to him to approach him. He had a large, opened book in front of him and he ran a well manicured finger over the list.
“You must be Mr. Fisher.” The man said so nasally that it sounded like it came straight from his nostrils.
Kevin nodded, “In the flesh.”
“Can I take your, um jacket sir?” He held his hand out for Kevin’s tattered jean jacket, Kevin nodded then whipped it off, revealing his bare chest and abs, cheap jail tattoos all over his arms and shoulders and a small fluff of chest hair to compliment it all. The man’s mouth fell open, he took the jacket and treated it like a sneezed on tissue.
“Please follow me sir.”
Kevin slapped the man on the back and smiled, he followed him to a booth-like set up with a large window showing the street, one way glass of course. Slutty Melons microscopically shook her head and gave the man a - Leave us alone - glance. He bowed then retreated back to his post. Kevin smiled and sat down, he picked up a fork and stared at it.
“Heh, even gold plated forks. I couldn’t afford to eat here one day on a years salary.”
“You um, forgot a few things Kevin.” Melons smirked at him. She was dressed in a skin tight Balmain Motif Jacquard Knit Dress with various customized reduction gaps under her breasts to accommodate their size. She wore a little too much eye shadow but kept the jewelry simple, just diamond earrings and that’s it. She hated people who wore too many trinkets, she thought they looked like cheap human chandeliers.
“Ya, I coulda sworn I had a shirt on when I threw on my jacket.”
“No, I mean the…” Slutty pointed to her own eye.
“Ah shit! I was looking for that too. Hope it doesn’t gross you out too much, it’s just a dead eye.”
“It’s not so bad.” It really was, she lost her appetite immediately, it looked to her like puss had taken over the entire eye under his lid then just dried up before becoming moldy.
“Anyway, like I was saying. I don’t do talking on the phone. I have certain government officials who want to talk to me so I don’t need THEM listening in to my calls ok? I owe a lot of explanations to a shit ton of people. So, no phone talking from now on.”
Slutty let out a soft laugh, “You do know they can still track your phone. It has a chip in it. Everything you do leaves a digital footprint these days.”
Kevin let out his own knowing laugh and held up his phone, “Not THIS phone lady. This sucker has a military grade chip that can’t be tracked. I should know, I got it from a guy on Ebay…” he was suddenly thoughtful looking, his expression quickly changed to worry and he dropped his phone in a glass of wine.
“Listen,” Slutty dismissed his antics, “it's obvious that you know that I have a little bit of money. You’ve probably already figured out who my mother is, she’s the president of Melons Jeans and quite a few other companies that we don’t need to dive into right now.”
Kevin just nodded, dollar signs swimming through his head.
“I was spoiled rotten growing up, she still spoils me today. She always sneaks millions of dollars into my banking account without me even knowing it's there. She’s impossible. I don’t even want to know how she manages that. Having said that, it makes life incredibly boring for me. There’s no challenge at all, anywhere. I can get whatever man I want, whatever house, car, life I want to buy or have. Frankly Mr. Fisher, it really sucks to be infinitely rich when I haven't earned a DIME of a single dollars worth of it. So in the past fifteen or so years I’ve ventured out, dressed down and gotten regular jobs. I’ve been a stripper, mail carrier, bartender, fast food worker, you name it. I just wanted to put my mark in the world. That’s when I saw Mark Keaton wrestling on television when I was stripping at a greasy club on the edge of Toronto. This cute ladies man child who thinks he’s the end all be all. It was so charming that I reached out to you and wanted to be his valet. I think his attitude and view on life is holding him back, Kevin. In those fifteen years I also picked up courses on image consulting and business savvy. Mark just thinks I’m some bimbo who has great boobs and that’s all I am to him. But I’m so much more. I can help you guys manage your money, I can get Mark into an upswing in EWC.”
“Well,” Kevin ran his hand through his messy hair as Slutty dismissed a waiter, “I really didn’t know any of that about you Slutty. I was going to ask you for some money for a project I’m working on but…” He scratched the back of his head.
“It’s no problem, Mr. Fisher,” Slutty smiled wide at him revealing perfectly white, expensive veneer work, “but let’s keep this between us for now. Just take the money and keep this info secret. In the coming weeks I want you to filter in suggestions to Mark. I want you to clean up his act, cut his hair and dye it brown. Give him proper wrestling attire, get him out of those awful leather pants with the glittery RMK on the posterior, put him in a tight stitched trunk with his name sewn in the fabric, some MMA kick pads. Get him to watch his language as I’m sure there’s children in Canada who cheer this man on. What kind of image is he portraying to his adoring child fans? Do you want kids going to school with his merchandise on and have them saying they want to bone their teacher? Pass me a fucking beer? We have to get this guy nailed down and fix his whole image. And I don’t know who approved of his merchandise, but that leather jacket with RMK on the back has barely moved one thousand units. It's too heavy and expensive, the average wrestling fan will bypass it for a t-shirt or foam hand in any booth in any building across the world. I can get expert designers to make a plain, cheaply made t-shirt that has a specialized logo on it that Mark would love. Simple, and the cost is one tenths to make compared to that awful biker jacket that’s not selling. His shirt would sell twenty times more merchandise in addition to his new image. That will get Mark Keaton rolling on his new brand.”
“You serious Slutty?” Kevin let out a loud laugh then picked up a glass of wine, he went to drink it but saw his cellphone was still inside.
“You really don’t know who you’re dealing with Madame. This guy has been a hard rocker, woman stealing, beer drinking piss bag who thinks the 80’s is the end all be all since I met him years ago. He’s the one who ruined my wrestling career with an eye poke. You expect me to grab him and do a 180 in one year? That's like going up to a lion and shaving his balls then expecting to walk away unscratched. You saw what he won a Sharpie Award for right? It’s pretty accurate if you know what I’m sayin.”
“Yes,” Slutty let out an audible sigh, “I know exactly what you’re saying and I know what he’s like. I’ve had a million boyfriends just like him. It’s going to take some TIME Kevin, we can’t do it in a day, but you filter in these little changes here and there and eventually we’ll get the butterfly that the world deserves.”
“So what, he’ll be Mr. Nice Guy Mark Keaton?”
“No, he can keep his name, but let’s actually turn this guy into something Remarkable.”
“You mean Marketable.” Kevin raised his wine glass but rediscovered his cellphone.
“Clever man. So what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Ah, just a little something I want to buy for his debut match at Paramount. I think it’ll really help him. It's a….”
Fade to black.