Vanessa’s Parent’s - June 2nd Our scene opens up onto the lounge area of a large well-to-do home in Algiers, New Orleans. Dotted around the dark stained wooden walls are various pieces of art and framed pictures, potted areca palms adding a splash of colour to the proceedings and offset to a series of bookshelves and display cabinets, several bottles of whisky and other spirits visible on one of the latter. (Vanessa’s Dad): Damnit. He pats the Hamburg crest on his top. (Vanessa’s Dad): Ma boys are just letting you get one in so it doesn’t look like a cakewalk. (Hans): Blödsinn. He takes a sip of his beer as he gestures at the TV. (Hans): Your keeper’s going to be picking a lot more of those out the back of his net. (Vanessa’s Dad): Whatever you say son, if it makes you happy… keep thinking that. Both men flash the other a smile, enjoying the wind up. (Vanessa’s Dad): So how’s it going with the new job? (Hans): It’s going well. (Vanessa’s Dad): I see the place is as crazy as ever. (Hans): Jah… The two men share a knowing look, the events at that most recent Havoc in Chicago very much at the forefront of their minds at that moment. (Vanessa’s Dad): Well I’m glad you’re there to look after my darlin’, I know she loves it, she’s crazy about her job, but it don’t half worry my and her mother with the bother that goes on. (Hans): You needn’t worry, jah. Anything happens, I’m out there in a flash. (Vanessa’s Dad): Quick as that, right? (Hans): Faster than it took my team to score… He smirks at the reaction he gets from his father in law. (Vanessa’s Dad): So you just training them, or what? (Hans): For now, jah, training them and helping them grow. Matthew’s given them a lot, I can add to that. (Vanessa’s Dad): You not tempted to try it yourself again? All those other old timers comin’ back. (Hans): I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. Exuding an air of haughtiness, he goes back to his beer, father-in-law chuckling away. A few seconds pass before the smile cracks on Hans’ own face and he responds. (Hans): I’m not sure that they make cakes large enough for all those candles you’d need on your next birthday… This time it’s his father-in-law’s turn to act offended, the two of them falling into a well rehearsed routine at this point. (Vanessa’s Dad): You show an interest in what your beloved daughter’s husband is going with his life… A shake of the head. (Vanessa’s Dad): … and he throws it back at you. Who taught you manners son? The two once again smile, focusing their attention back on the game. (Hans): I am tempted. (Vanessa’s Dad): Hmm? (Hans): I am tempted… to not just be on the training staff… (Vanessa’s Dad): So what’s stopping you? (Hans): I’m not sure. Honest answer. (Vanessa’s Dad): You were wrestling in Japan just last year son, back in Europe before that and all over. Not like you’ve been sitting on your backside this whole time. Though it was nice to have you in one place so we could come visit it has to be said. (Hans): I wouldn’t have guessed it from how you moaned about New York. (Vanessa’s Dad): Oh come on son, life there ain’t what it is here. Hans nods his head, conceding that point. (Vanessa’s Dad): Besides, my two beloved’s go off galivating, shopping for days… no sir… peaceful life here is what I need. Snorting with amusement, Hans takes another sip of his beer. (Hans): They can shop, jah… they can shop… Another knowing look passes between them both at the memories of their other halves (Vanessa’s Dad): You told her though? (Hans): Oh mein schatz knows. It’s just… (Vanessa’s Dad): Not the right time? (Hans): Jah. Something like that. (Vanessa’s Dad): Do you know when it will be? (Hans): Nein… He looks ruefully at his beer. (Hans): I’ll know it when the time comes. Accepting this, his father-in-law nods in acknowledgement as they both return their attention to the game. The HWA Academy - June 17th The scene fades back in on Butch Parker’s office in the HWA Academy. It’s mid-morning by this time, the sun streaming through the blinds on the windows and filling the place with a warmth. The sound of the AC on the upper wall is a low hum, as the only other noise comes from Butch typing away at his laptop, fully engrossed in his work. (Butch): Come in. The door swings open and Hans von Richtoven enters the room, closing the door behind him slowly. (Hans): Do you have a minute? (Butch): For you pal, always. The two share a smile as Butch gets out of his seat and moves round his desk, settling himself against it. (Hans): This is just a formality but… His head tilts towards the sign on the desk, ‘HWA Co-Owner - Butch Parker’ reads the small golden name plate. (Hans): Since there’s lawyers and rules that you’re beholden to. He reaches into his back pocket, an envelope appearing in his hand which he passes to Butch. (Butch): Your contract…? (Hans): Jah. I wasn’t sure I’d be giving you this until Matthew went out there at Havoc… but it’s right to do it properly… Something catches his eye and the letter drops fractionally, his gaze falling on Hans once again. (Butch): It’s dated two months ago… (Hans): And I’m handing you it today. (Butch): Sh*t man. Does Vanessa know you’ve had this the whole time? (Hans): She’s the one that folded it and put it in the envelope. Butch’s eyebrows arc up at this as he looks back down at the signed contract held in his hands. (Hans): If the time never came, then it never did, but here we are. A low whistle comes from Butch as he drops the contract onto his desk. (Butch): Here we are indeed big man. The two smile at one another, Butch then bringing Hans into a bear hug, slapping his back as he does so. (Butch): Thank f*ck, someone on the roster that’ll not be a pain in the ar*e for a change. Laughing, they separate. (Hans): Give me time mein freund, speaking of which… Pointing out at the floor beyond to emphasize, he carries on. (Hans): I’ll still be here doing what I’ve been doing the last two months. Wouldn’t want to leave a job half unfinished. (Butch): Thanks man, I appreciate that. Sean’s had nothing but good things to say about you, nevermind the rest of them. (Hans): Danke, I’m glad to hear that. On the desk, Butch’s phone starts to buzz insistently with an incoming call. (Hans): I’ll leave you to it. The two shake hands firmly, before Hans takes his leave from the room, walking through the media floor and the various teams and desks that litter the floor space. (Hans): Give me five and I’ll be out, jah? Nodding her head at this, the scene slowly fades to black.
Sat in two comfortable La-Z-Boy black leather recliners are Hans von Richtoven and his father in law. Both are in their respective team football shirts, the large wall mounted TV in front of them showing the play-off game between VfB Stuttgart and Hamburg SV. Both have just settled themselves down, beers in their hands as the last few moments tick down to the game beginning.
With the whistle being blown and the kick off as Stuttgart are immediately on the attack, forcing the Hamburger defence to concede a corner within the first 20 seconds as they slice it out of play.
Hans lets the tension get to him as he perches on the edge of his seat, his free hand moving up and in front of his chest, as if reaching for something. As the corner kick is taken and the ball whipped into the box, it’s headed in by Konstantinos Mavropanos for the early lead, causing it to become a clenched fist as he pumps it into the air, screaming with joy as he can’t help but turn to face his father in law who can only laugh, slapping the arm of his chair.
The next few minutes are filled with idle chatter, paused at times as either team presses their attack, albeit the score remaining as it stands.
A few more minutes pass as they enjoy the game.
Another minute or so passes before Hans gives a proper answer to the question posed to him.
The scene slowly fades out briefly.
After a few moments, a knock on the door takes him out of his reverie.
Tearing it open and unfolding the letter within, Butch mouths silently the words as his eyes scan the text.
Down the flights of stairs he goes, making his way towards the main training room of the Academy.
Through the rings and occupants he continues on his way, making his way towards Michelle Learner, leaning against the top rope, she looks down at him.
Message Thread
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