He double checks his appearance quickly making sure everything is exactly right, before taking slow measured steps through the tunnel leading to the side area where the gathered journalist would stand with cameras rolling. His heart races slightly as he thinks about all the people counting on him and his ability to control this interview. He stops short of stepping through. His mind is swimming in a sea of noise. So many events were set in motion, so many issues he had to address, both public and privately. He tries to allocate everything a specific place in his mind and compartmentalise everything that had just transpired. Legion and Fallen attacking the newest HWA signings Kain and Abel, Maniac attacking Matt after their match and then calling him in a promo that not long aired on the HWA’s YouTube channel, the incident involving Ash Phoenix and Sean returning. Butch feels his pulse quickening even more so. His throat feels dry and his palms start to feel clammy.
Wisdom is standing right next to him. She watches him, like her old owl Talon used to do. She scrutinises his features. She knows something’s up. She’d seen every look her husband at ever work on that handsome face of his. She notices the sweat starting to form on his brow. This wasn’t like him. Butch had done a million post-show interviews before and not even bat an eyelid. She reaches out and squeezes his hand.
(Wisdom): Babe, you alright?
Butch forces a smile and nods at her somewhat assuringly.
(Butch): I’m fine, honestly.
But before Butch can take another step, his vision starts to go blurry and he wobbles on his feet almost like a drunk. His heart starts to race and he struggles for breath, staggering back against the wall next to him, clutching his chest. Wisdom immediately rushes to help him. She places her around his waist in an attempt to try and support him as Butch collapses into a seated position, his head leaning back against the wall.
(Wisdom): Is there anyone here? Somebody, please! Something is happening to my husband, we need some medical assistance right away!
Panic sets in and Wisdom runs to fetch any available personnel in sight to try to come to her husband's aid. A medical staff member happens to be nearby and arrives promptly.
(Medic): Mr Parker, can you hear me?
Butch doesn’t respond immediately and he turns to address Wisdom.
(Medic): Can you tell me what happened?
(Wisdom): He was fine a moment ago, then he suddenly started to look clammy and dizzy and he collapsed. What’s wrong with him?
Butch suddenly starts to speak, his voice breaking in between short, sharp breaths.
(Butch): I'm fine, I'll... Fine. Just got lightheaded for a sec... But let's... Let's keep going.…
He tries to compose himself and continue forward despite his symptoms worsening.
(Medic): Mr Parker, hey, stay with me. Can you tell me if you feel any tingling in your arm and or a tightness in your chest?
Butch nods tiredly and points to his left arm as he tries to keep his eyes open.
(Butch): Left… arm… numb….
Butch struggles to communicate clearly, mumbling and groggily responding between shortness of breath and dizziness caused by palpitations. His face is completely drained of colour and sweat is pouring down his face and temples. The medic brings his walkie talkie clipped on his shirt up to his mouth
(Medic): I have an ICD-10, possible I46, I’m gonna need a gurney in the conference room and a defibrillator, stat.
Wisdom is frantic at this point and she grabs the medic by his collar.
(Wisdom): What the f*** is going on? What’s wrong with my husband and what is a code I46 or whatever-you-just-said?!
The medic politely forces Wisdom to release his collar.
(Medic): Mrs Parker, it seems like your husband might be experiencing cardiac symptoms based on what he’s described. I need you to stand back and let me do my job whilst I wait for my colleague to arrive from the medical bay.
Wisdom is losing her f***ing mind at this point as she looks at Butch who still looks very pale, his breaths short. Suddenly, one of the reporters behind the curtain peeks through, curious as to what is taking so long for the interview to start and sees Butch in his weakened state and begins to film on his cell phone. The sudden commotion causes several more of the reporters to pile through as well, their voices become an indecipherable cacophony of noise.
(Wisdom): Are you f**king kidding me?! Get the hell out of here! Security!
Moments later, security personnel burst into the conference room, urgently motioning for cameras to cease rolling and ushering them back but it’s too late, some of them already have footage and it’s only a matter of time before the internet is flooded with images and videos of Butch. Another couple of familiar voices can be heard, as the second medic arrives with the gurney and he and his colleague attempt to move Butch onto the gurney.
(Red Dragon): Wisdom! What the hell is going on?!
(Hans): What in the name? What’s wrong with Butch?
(Wisdom): We were getting ready to do the post-show presser and he started to feel dizzy and he collapsed. They think he’s having a heart attack and these assholes are trying to film it for their stupid online f***ing blogs!
The two medics, despite their combined strength are struggling to heave Butch up due to his massive frame. This prompts Hans and Red Dragon to step in.
(Red Dragon): Let us help you. We’ve had experience in helping this big guy to his feet on many occasions.
Hans and Red Dragon both stoop down, gently pulling Butch’s arms over their respective shoulders and both grunt as guide him up to a vertical base.
(Hans): Come on, you big schweinhund, there we go.
The two manage to get Butch on to the gurney as one of the medics places an oxygen mask on his face.
(Medic #1): Okay Mr Parker, you’re going to have to try and control your breathing. Do you understand me?
Butch manages a small nod.
(Medic #1): Good, good. So we’re going to breathe in through our noses for five and slowly out through our moves, can you do that for me?
Again, Butch nods.
(Medic #2): We need to get him to the medical bay so we can see what’s properly going on with him.
(Wisdom): Can you get him there without anyone else seeing? I don’t want anymore unnecessary attention. He doesn’t need anymore prying eyes!
(Medic #2): Of course, Mrs Parker.
As the medics begin to wheel Butch to the medical wing, Wisdom begins to follow but briefly turns to Hans and Red Dragon.
(Wisdom): Thank you both so much. Hans, you’ve got background in legal, don’t you?
(Hans): Um, jah?
(Wisdom): Can you put together some sort of cease and desist? I don’t want anyone who managed to film Butch being able to have any footage posted online and I don’t want Evina logging on to her iPad and seeing her dad like that. None of us need this right now.
(Hans): Of course, leave it with me.
(Wisdom): Thank you.
She turns to Red Dragon.
(Wisdom): Matthew, can you do some damage control for me? I need you to address the media for me until I know Butch is okay. I know it’s a little outside your pay grade but just tell them there was a minor health scare but everything is under control… and tell Sean. No one else but Sean. Hans, you can tell Vanessa, but please, please just keep it between us. I don’t want there being any panic until we know more.
(Red Dragon): Consider it done.
(Wisdom): Thank you guys, I appreciate it.
She turns and starts to catch up with the medics and Butch, turning her head back.
(Wisdom): I’ll keep you updated!
She runs down the hall, bursting through the double doors until she finally locates the medical bay. Thankfully no one else was within sight or earshot. She enters the room and sees Butch still on the gurney, looking slightly less pale than he was five minutes ago. His shirt is unbuttoned and several patches are stuck to his bare chest, connected to a machine of some sort that looks to be monitoring his heart rate.
(Wisdom): Is he alright?! What’s that he’s hooked up to? Shouldn’t you be taking him to the hospital?!
(Medic #2): This is an EKG machine, Mrs Parker, it’s designed to monitor heart rhythms and electrical activity. It will tell us if there’s anything going on with your husband’s heart and so far everything looks normal. To be honest, I’m not entirely convinced it’s cardiac-related. Your husband is in excellent physical condition, he has a balanced diet and has no history of heart issues.
(Wisdom): So what are you saying?
(Medic #2): My colleague has something he’s going to try and if it works, I think we’ll have our answer.
Wisdom walks up to the gurney and runs her hand through Butch’s hair.
(Wisdom): Hey big guy. Are you done scaring me?
Butch manages a light smile, pulling down the oxygen mask.
(Butch): You know me…
(Wisdom): I do and that’s the problem. You scared the absolute shit out of me!
(Butch): Sorry, babe.
The other medic approaches, pulling out a plastic strip from his medical bag containing a dozen or so pills. He presses the back of it, popping one out into his hand and holds it out to Butch.
(Medic #1): Right, Mr Parker, I’m going to try something to see if this helps your breathing. It’s a pill I want you to place under your tongue. Just let it stay there and dissolve naturally. It’s called Isosorbide, it’s going to open up your arteries and help the flow of oxygen. The only drawback is, for about two minutes, you’re gonna feel like you’ve suffered the worse hangover you’ve ever had. You ready?
(Butch): Just do it…
The medic hands Butch a tablet and he places it under his tongue.
(Medic #1): Oh, and you're probably going to want to hold onto this.
The medic hands him a kidney dish. Butch takes and it examines it.
(Butch): What am I going to need this for? I'm actually feeling a little bit- oh shit!
Butch then involuntarily wretches and vomits into the cardboard bowl. He grimaces, involuntarily bringing his free hand up to rub his temples with his thumb and middle finger respectively.
(Butch): Jesus Christ, my head is pounding! What the hell is this? Oh wait, here it comes again.
Butch vomits a second time into the bowl as Wisdom rubs his back soothingly. She turns to the medics.
(Wisdom): How long is this expected to last?
(Medic #1): Shouldn't be more than a few minutes. His body needs to regulate the medication, his arteries are being widened to allow more oxygenation through his bloodstream, it replicates the symptoms associated with dehydration - nausea, vomiting, headache etcetera. It'll pass.
Butch lifts his head up from the bowl and lies back, exhausted on the gurney, allowing a deep breath to gush out his mouth. Wisdom takes it from him and hands to one of the medics who disposes of it. Wisdom then grabs a damp cloth from the adjacent tabletop and dabs his forehead, face, and neck area.
(Wisdom): How are you feeling, honey?
Butch takes a moment to collect himself.
(Butch): A lot better actually...what the hell happened?
(Medic #2): Just as we suspected, you've suffered a massive anxiety attack, Mr Parker.
A look of sheer incredulousness crosses Butch’s face as if he can't quite believe what he's being told.
(Butch): That can't be right, I've been feeling queasy all day, it's probably just been nerves from the show, that's all. I've had more anxious nights than this believe me and l've never felt anything like this before.
(Medic 1#): Mr Parker, there is absolutely no shame in suffering an episode like this. The body reacts in different ways to different situations. Its fight or flight response manifests in different ways. The nature of your occupation, your body has been programmed to go into fight mode all these years because up until now that's the only way it's known how to defend itself. However in this instance, your body has decided it needed to tell you to slow down. As I understand, tonight has been quite stressful, has it not?
(Butch): Well, it wasn't without incident if that's what you're saying but like I said, I've been in far more stressful situations.
(Wisdom): But each time before, we weren't the ones in charge babe. You've only been responsible for you, for me and the kids. Now you've got thousands of people's livelihoods depending on you and the shows we put on. That comes with its own unique burdens.
(Butch): Come on babe, l'm fine.
(Medic #1): Your wife is right, Mr Parker. You're in a different environment than you're used to and it hasn't known how to adapt to a different kind of stress and reacted the only way it knows how, by shutting down. We have to take into account your age as well. You're not as young as you used to be.
This strikes a nerve.
(Butch): How f***ing old do you think I am, son? Like you said, l'm in excellent shape, I haven't hard a carb in about six years!
(Medic #1): I didn’t meant to offend you, Mr Parker but men in their forties tend to exhibit these sorts of symptoms more than those in say their twenties or thirties.
(Butch): Ach, away and throw shite at yersel.
The medic looks confused by Butch's statement.
(Medic #1): Excuse me?
Wisdom can't help but allow herself a smile, recognising Butch's Scottish vernacular coming out and she shakes her head before directing herself towards the medic.
(Wisdom): In English, he respectfully disagrees.
Butch suddenly sits up and starts to swing his legs round. This catches the medics off guard who try to motion him back onto the gurney. Butch ushers them away with a wave of his hand and starts to peel off the patches from the EKG machine and button up his shirt too.
(Butch): Look, l'm feeling way better. You said there's nothing wrong with my heart, just a bit of anxiety creeping in. Just give me a strip of those nightmare pills and I'll be fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a company to run. There are matters that require my attention, like that rabble of reporters in the conference room.
(Medic #2): Mr Parker, I would advise against any work-related activities for at least 24 hours. You need rest and sleep.
Butch offers the medic a sardonic smile as if it say, yeah that's not gonna happen. But Wisdom suddenly stands in front ot him though, placing the palms of her hands on his chest.
(Wisdom): Babe, I love your stubbornness but this is not the time for being big brave, Butch Parker right now. I agree with them, you need to go back to the hotel and rest. Let someone else handle the media.
Butch almost pouts, like a little boy being told to come off his PlayStation because its past his bedtime. He reaches up and holds Wisdom's hands which are still placed on his chest. They both know she's not physically strong enough to keep him where he is but he recognises the point she's making.
(Butch): Babe, l'm fine, it's just a few questions l'm going to answer and besides, if they don't see me, they'll start making up their own stories and speculating. Our stock price is gonna end up dropping, the CBS Execs are going to come knocking... I need to do this.
Just then, there is a knock on the medical bay doors and a second later, Hans' head pops through.
(Hans): Hallo?
Wisdom turns and see Hans and she smiles as if to say thank god, reinforcements. Hans walks into the room, flanked by Red Dragon.
(Wisdom): Hans, hi. Maybe you'll be able to talk some sense into him.
(Butch): I am fine! For the thousandth bloody time!
(Wisdom): He suffered a massive anxiety attack. The medics want him to rest which.
Wisdom turns to give Butch her best "don't argue with me look".
(Wisdom): I agree with. But Mr Pig-headedness over here wants to go out and speak to the media.
(Red Dragon): Yeah, that's not happening, Butch-San.
(Hans): I've already taken care of the cease-and-desist anyway, Butch. Anyone who leaks any footage of you will be hearing from our legal department.
(Wisdom): See? You don't need to do anything.
Butch stands up, stretching out his shoulder blades and swivelling his neck.
(Butch): Look, it's very sweet you all care so much but l've told you... I am fine.
He looks at Hans.
(Butch): Maybe you prefer German? Mir geht's gut!
He looks at Red Dragon.
(Butch): Or Japanese? Watashi a genikdesu!
(Hans): Okay, settle down Rosetta Stone. Wisdom is right, you need to rest. Please for once, listen to reason.
Butch looks at him deadpan and he instantly waves his arms in frustration.
(Hans): I know, look who I'm talking to... schweinhund…
Butch walks forward, fixing the sleeves of his shirt.
(Butch): Look, if you're insistent on wanting what's best for me, come and watch the press conference, hell I'll even let these two into the room…
Butch gestures towards the medics.
(Butch): … and if I look like I'm turning blue, I give you my blessing to tranq me if you have to.
Red Dragon this time stands in front of Butch. He folds his arms across his chest in defiant fashion. Butch is looking more and more frustrated as he stares at his friend.
(Red Dragon): Don't make me put you on your ass in front of your wife, Butch-San.
(Butch): Try me.
A moment passes and no move is made. Satisfied, Butch walks past him and heads for the doors.
(Red Dragon): That played out much differently in my head...you two…
Red Dragon looks at the medics.
(Red Dragon): Please, for the love of God, stay close to him in case anything else happens.
Wisdom let's out a frustrated sigh, mopping her face with her hands and she shouts after Butch, hoping he's still within earshot as the medics grab their medical supplies in their bags and hurry after Butch.
(Wisdom): JUST SO YOU KNOW, YOU'RE NOT GETTING SEX TONIGHT!
Hans and Red Dragon both make faces indicative of them not really wanting to hear what Wisdom just said. She sees it and shrugs.
(Wisdom): Sorry guys. Thank you both for what you've done tonight. Hans, you're not even in the door five minutes here and you're already dealing with all this shit.
Hans waves his hand at Wisdom in a dismissive manner.
(Hans): Don't worry about it. We're all family. Butch is like my brother, I wouldn't be anywhere else right now.
(Wisdom): Please, please can you both go and keep an eye on him. I need to call the sitter and make sure everything else is all sorted at our end.
Both men nod and turn and take their leave, chatting as they do so, pushing the doors of the medical bay open, speeding up their walk to catch up with Butch and the medics as the scene fades to black.
Message Thread
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