PRIME PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS:

SEBASTIAN GOLD

in

 THE LOCUSTS OF CONTROL

Any resemblance to Bembe Brightwells, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Fade in:

EXTERIOR - AN OUTDOOR SHOOTING RANGE - DAY A wide shrubland range, people already lined up and taking shots.  There’s a sign-up table, and people are fussing with stickers and pins.

A beat-up car pulls into the adjacent lot. GOLD steps out of the driver’s seat, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He takes in his surroundings, disgusted.

GOLD: This better be worth my time.

Cut to a MAN IN BLUE stepping up a line. He takes a shot and doesn't even look to see if it hits before spinning around for his applause.

Judge:  How in the hell did he do that?

GOLD comes up behind the crowd.

GOLD: Yeah, Lightwater! How in the hell!

The Man in Blue’s smile fades when seeing GOLD.

Judge: Who? We won’t have a ‘Lightwater’ registered here.

GOLD: You wouldn’t. Mr. Lightwater is one the slipperiest criminals I’ve had the displeasure to hunt.

Gold takes out a gun and points it towards the MAN IN BLUE.

EVERYONE ELSE at the range points their gun at GOLD.

GOLD: I’m a Texas Ranger. Ya’ll just saying good morning to me.

L.W.: He’s insane! He just pointed a gun at a total stranger!

GOLD: And if you’d all step aside, I’d like to take him in.

He advances.

L.W.: Get away from me, Gold!

GOLD: Any of you hear me give my name?

Uh-Oh. Caught in a very obvious blunder, L.W. stumbles over his words, and the guns turn from GOLD to him one by one.

L.W: Well, fu-

Cut to:

EXTERIOR - SHOOTING RANGE PARKING LOT - DAY GOLD throws handcuffs on L.W. and starts leading him to his car.

L.W (muttering): Texas Ranger?

GOLD (muttering): Worked, didn’t it?

A low hum starts in the background. A few people behind them drift towards the sound, trying to make out its source. GOLD is still leading L.W. to the car.

GOLD (whispering): Now you’re gonna tell where you hid my cut.

Judge: Oh, excuse me, Mr. Ranger!

The Contest Judge runs towards Gold, who swears under his breath.  More people are gathering towards the loudening buzz.

Judge: We can’t let you go without some reward.

GOLD: I can’t accept that, sir. Just doing my duty.

Judge: Could I at least get your name for the Newsletter?  What was it, Gould?

Before Gold can answer:

L.W.: Gold. G-O-L-D.

A scream.  Now, more screams.  The men in the parking lot turn towards the range just as a mass of swarming red locusts descends upon it.

Judge: Everyone! Do not panic! They are perfectly harmless if you get ins-

Red splatters the field as the locusts begin to devour the contestants. Shots fire off in every direction, forgetting that swarms are resistant to piercing damage, but people are not.

BANG! The Judge’s leg explodes like a firework. GOLD and L.W. just make it to his car.

L.W.: We have to help him.

GOLD: Get the fuck inside, it’s too late!

L.W.: You’ve always been a heartless son of a bitch, Gold.

BASH! Something, something, some- BASH!

Cut to:

Months before Revolution 53: “BASH!” a rasping voice says.

Sebastian snaps out of his daydream. Fuck. Right, he thinks.

“Come back, hun.” The rasping voice belongs to an older woman in a tracksuit, proudly grey and comfortably vaping inside.

Come on, Sebastian. Stay here...In this multi-purpose room, and figure out how you'll lie to them.

"Now that you're with us," she says, "tell Harry he already ordered the custard-filled, and it's too late to change to a classic glazed!"

"Dee, I'm gonna lose the group's deposit if you set off an alarm in here." He says before turning to Harold. "Can you just stick with the custard-filled?"

Harold sighs. "You always let her have her way, Bash."

Anything to keep the peace. Sebastian looks at his phone and clears his throat. "Alright, Deathkiller said he's stuck in traffic with the donuts. We can get started."

"Told ya. Tooo late."

"Maybe if someone had been all here." Harry mutters.

He looks around at the familiar faces in the metal chair circle.

“Let’s call to order. This is a regular meeting of 'The Clean 'Em Punks' order of Addicts Anonymous serving the professional wrestling community. My name is Sebastian, and I’m an addict and your secretary.”

“Hi, Sebastian.” Everyone says.

“Uh, before we get started, I just wanna address some rumors going around. I wanna make it clear: I am not 'in talks' with PRIME, okay? I barely know what that means. Let’s put that to that bed.”

A few grumbles, a few more nods. They believe you, coward.

“But in real news, I’m proud to announce I hit my first soberversary last week-”

The circle whoops, claps, and ‘atta boys completely sincerely.

“And I…I couldn’t have done this without each one of you. Thank you for believing in this group, in me, even when I fell short of your expectations.”

“Like your last title run!” Harry yells. Harold Jenkins went by Harlan Sparks in the ring. He was a journeyman through and through, always booked, rarely blessed, never argued about online, and a little bitter about it.

“You know what, Har? I could've done it without you.” He laughs. Harold comes over and puts his arms around Sebastian’s neck in a half-hug, half-chokehold. Sebastian hadn't noticed till now how sweaty his friend's arm was.

“Fuck you, Golden Boy. I’m proud of you.” He says.

“Hey! What happened to my part of the speech??” Dee chuckles. Dee was a local legend. In the '90's, DiDi St. Claire was the most hated woman in SoCal. At her prime, she clocked in 155lbs and claimed she once deadlifted Ivan Stanislav at a gas station in Pasadena, but it was a closely guarded Russian secret. The broken back that cut her career short at least meant she'd never have to prove it to anyone.

“I’m getting to it!” He makes a show of clearing his throat and turns to her. “Dee, I really thought this was gonna end in disaster, but you turned out to be the best sponsor a guy could ask for. Thank you.”

They embrace. Everyone claps.

Cut to:

Later That Day, Afternoon: Inside Giovanni’s Pizza & Sub. Sebastian sits across from Didi.

“You’re full of shit,” Dee says, grabbing a slice and folding it. "Everyone can see it."

“You’re the worst fucking sponsor.” Sebastian says.

“Issue is you can’t lie," She says ."No, really, you’re too showy about it. Like when a kid hides something behind their back: it’s a fun bit, but it doesn’t fool anyone.” She notices Sebastian staring out the window and waves a hand before his face.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

Sebastian jumps back to attention. Stay Here.

“How much did they offer you?” She asks

“Not answering that.”

“So, more than you’ve ever had?"

"I didn't say 'No.' I just haven't signed the contract."

"But you're thinking it?  An opportunity that you're closest friends would gut you for - I'm gonna need to hear a good reason outta you, or next pie's on you."

"The next one's always on me," Sebastian says. She waves him off.

"You know I'm good for it. I'll get you back one of these days."

"Could you specify which day?"

“You're changing the subject. Answer the question, 'Bash, Why're you dragging your feet?" Dee taps her foot. Sebastian looks out the window again.

"Gio's only stays quiet in me for a limited time. You’re on the clock.”

He chuckles. "Okay. I was watching an older Revolution when two thoughts hit, one right after the other, that scared the living shit out of me and haven't stopped scarring me since."

"Enough to not sign? A thought."

He holds up two fingers. "Two thoughts. You watch Revolution lately?”

“Eh, no reason to. Now, back in PRIME's actual prime, that was the real stuff, real talent you had to watch. Not like these days.”

“K.” He deadpans back.

"What'd you see that scared you so much?" she asks.

“Well, there was this one guy...You heard of Bembe Brightwell?”

“The lightning Lucha guy, yeah! Love that guy. Crazy fuck makes me laugh."

“So you do watch?”

“…A clip sometimes.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I watched his match against Sean O’Neill, and I can tell Brightwell’s got it in the ring, and he’s aura-ed up enough to go far at PRIME, but something is missing. Surreal is a heavy-hitter and was in control a lot, but that's where wildcards like him can thrive. He didn't. Something is holding him back...I was wrong about him being a wildcard. I don't think that guy makes his own decisions."

"For the best. Someone as souped in the head like that can't look out for themselves. Is that what scared you? Taking a freak hit that makes you reliant on other people?" She rolls her eyes. "I promise it ain't as bad as it looks."

"Yeah...that was it. Seems silly now I say it out loud." Sebastian says. Didi nods and starts complaining about some man she doesn't like in the park. See Didi? He thinks. I can lie just fine.

Cut to:

Later That Day, Almost Sunset: Sebastian and Didi in the park.  Didi throws out handfuls of breadcrumbs to pigeons while Sebastian picks at a soft serve.

"So," Sebastian says. "I know we're supposed to give up our addictions to God, but I don't think that's where mine ended up."

"The hell is in that ice cream?"

"I'm serious. I'm worried I missed a step."

"Is this the other thought?"

"In a way."

" So, walk it back. You admitted you have no control over your addiction-"

"Nah, I never did that," he says.

"Bullshit!"

"No, really, it didn't make sense to me. I thought the whole point was to gain control over something."

"Then you haven't been listening, have you?" She says, genuine sadness creeping into her voice. "You never control it, Bash, that's why you give it up to a higher power, that you've made it this far without doing that is-"

"No, I did that part. That's what's been bothering me. I know I gave my addiction up to a higher power, but I don't remember which one," he sighs. "Dee, have I actually done anything?"

"Of course. You chose to get better."

"That's it?"

"That's everything, you fucking idiot. Now you've pissed me off." She scatters more breadcrumbs.

Sebastian scrolls through his messages with Harold.  He's not responding. Weird. Usually, have to mute him.

"Is Harold mad at me?" he asks.

"Yeah, of course," she answers.

"What did I do this time?"

Do you know how many times he tried out for PRIME? How many titles you've won that he hasn't?"

"What am I supposed to do about that?"

"You could've texted him back after you topped him at that house show." Sebastian chokes on his soft serve.

"How...? Who spilled??"

"You did, apparently. And in St. Martin’s Basement?”

"In the private bathroom!"

"Does that improve things?"

"You made it sound like I bent him over the tabernacle."

"Did you really ghost him?" She asks, her cackle rising.

"Yes! He's an asshole! Stop laughing!"

"Bash, you made the most butthurt man I know reach new levels of butthurt previously unseen by human eyes. Do you take reservations?" She starts losing it.

"Not funny!" Sebastian says, face going red. "Why does everyone know my business in this high-school ass group?"

"'Cause you got pegged as one with a ticket, and people wanna see if you win the lottery or crash and burn. We're entertained either way."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you think they wanna sign you, Bash?"

"I'm talented as hell, and I work my ass off."

"Come on, you know better. Talent and hard work just gets you the lotto ticket. If your number never gets called, there's no hard work or talent that's gonna fix that. Someone saw you at the right match, in the right mood, when they had a spot on the roster. Ding ding ding, you're a winner now."

He doesn't know how to respond to that, so he looks at his phone. Nothing from Harry.

"Hey you heard from Harry at all tonight?" he asks.

Didi shakes her head.

"Do you think he might've..."

Did nods.

"I'll stop by his place tomorrow. Check up on him."

Cut to:

INTERIOR/EXTERIOR - INSIDE THE CAR /A LONG DESERT HIGHWAY - DAY

GOLD: WHAT IS THAT DOING??

L.W.: YOU GOT ANY BETTER IDEAS?

It’s not making a difference.  He slides back into the car, rolling up the window, not seeing the small hopper that got through. Gold takes a long drink from the plastic whiskey bottle on his dash.

GOLD:  Hey, if this is it, I need to know why you cut us and ran.

L.W. contemplates his answer. The red grasshopper leaps silently onto his shoulder.

L.W.: I didn’t have a choice.  You were gonna do the same to me.

GOLD: No, I wasn’t.

L.W: Still a terrible liar.

The tiny locust hops in L.W.’s ear.  He screams.  The car goes careening before Gold can retake control.  L.W. convulses in the backseat

GOLD: LIGHT??? Light, talk to me!

He stops convulsing and lays still for a moment. Then…he stirs and sits up slow, haltingly, as if adjusting to new types of movement. It still speaks in the same voice, now calm, almost elated.

L.W: Gold…gold…the singing…i-it’s so blue…

GOLD: Uh, you okay, buddy?

L.W.: Yes. Finally. And soon you will be, too.

Bones creak as he throws himself on GOLD, teeth gnashing, biting to feed.

*HIIIIIIGHWAY TO HELL!*

Cut to:

Later that Day, Night Sebastian jolts back. *Hiiiiiiighway* It's Harry. He picks up.

"Hey Har, uh, You there, bud? Uh, sent you a lot of texts. Just respond with whatever you want so I know you're good. I'm calling you which should show how much I care. Look, I'm sorry I froze you out after our...thing, but you've got the group worried, dude."

He looks at his phone, the voicemail stopped recording a while ago. God, I could use a dr#i$n%k#$. NOPE. He hits himself palm to temple. No, you don't. He hits himself again. Stop it. He stands statue still until the craving passes. It doesn't. He throws on his helmet and starts up the bike, hands trembling. Don't do this, you- *beep* He checks the text on his phone and sighs in something between relief and anger. Oh, fuck you.

Cut to:

Almost Midnight Harry's apartment. Sebastian dumps a bottle of vodka down the drain. Harry moans from the couch:

"You shouldn't have come over."

"After what you texted me?" Sebastian asks, pointed.

"Yeah." he slurs. "I'm real real sorry about that."

"I forgive you. But never make that threat like that to me again. That wasn't fair."

"I uh...I wanted you to come over..." He tries to look cute. Sebastian almost breaks into tears.

"Go to your room. I'm not sleeping on the floor if you puke on your couch." Sebastian says.

"I'm not tired. Is it true you're afraid of the Brightwell nut?"

I have the worst sponsor. "Not exactly."

"Good cause that thing he's got with his shrink's nothing like what Johnny did to you."

Any sympathy left in Sebastian's face drains away.

"Ohhh. Are we still not allowed to say His name?"

"We're not going there tonight," he says, teeth gritted.

"All I meeaaant," He says. "Is you're not Bembe. He's not you. You don't know his head-problems, and if you ever face him, knock him the hell out. Maybe it'll help!"

"Alright, I'm getting you to bed."

"You know, once upon a time, PRIME was 'talking' to me," Harry says, flopping back on the couch. A 'developmental deal'. They were gonna pay for some training to see where I went. And I uh...didn't take it."

"...Why not?"

"Ooooh, this, that, the other thing. Timing was terrible. I was in a bad headspace and uh." He chuckles. "I was concerned for my sobriety..." He laughs again, which turns into a retch.  He runs to the bathroom. Sebastian does his best to tune out the noises. Eventually, he comes out and makes it to his room.

"Always thought they'd call a second time..." He mutters. The door slams shut.

Sebastian collapses onto the couch and considers never standing up again. Still, he musters up enough energy to leave and bike back to his own place. He couldn't be there for the morning regret.

Cut to:

EXTERIOR - INSIDE THE CAR - DAY A brutal fight. LW and Gold are deadlocked. Gold is barely able to keep the car from spinning out. The Swarm is almost upon them. Resign settles over GOLD’s face.

GOLD: You’re better than going out like this.

GOLD opens the glovebox and pulls out a grenade. The swarm has almost overtaken them.

GOLD: But the choice ain’t mine.

He yanks the pin.

Cut to outside as the swarm envelopes the car.

*BOOOOOOOM*

Cut to:

The Next Day, Morning Sebastian and Didi sit across from each other at a diner. Didi reads the paper. The trailer for a new action movie plays.

"I sent in the contract this morning." Boom.

"Thank Christ! You get over yourself?" she says.

"More or less."

"Glad I could help." She turns the page. "Hey, you said a second thing freaked you out yesterday. What was it?"

"Oh. I was watching all these talents. All at the top of their game, and I wasn't intimidated. Not a bit. I watched each one of those champions deliver the matches of their lives and thought, 'I could beat them. Each and every one. Not saying I will! But I realized they're not legends to me anymore. They're peers."

"That scared you?"

"Oh yeah. Cause it meant I had to make a choice. Stay here, take care of my people, take care of myself, and live a long and healthy life or..." He shrugs. "Well, I already signed the contract."

Dee looks up from her paper, startled.

"Sebastian," she says, voice shaking. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

He nods. "Sorry, Dee. Know myself too well."

"Nothing is set in stone like that you decide it is."

"But we are who we are. Even if I don't become Brightwell, I'm still me, and I will catch up to myself one day. All I can do is leave as big a mark as I can before that happens."

She folds up the paper and slams it down. "That's a shit excuse. You're laying the foundation for a relapse, and I can't watch it. Please, kid, please-." She says, near tears.

He takes her hands in his.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna go as far as I can for as long as I can, but there's no turning back."

A motorcycle revs outside.

Cut to:

EXTERIOR - REST STATION - DAY

Didi (V.O): So you've decided you've got no choice?

Sebastian (V.O): No...

A fiery wreck pulls into the gas station.  Out walks Gold, on fire, wearing a motorcycle helmet. The flaming car explodes.

SEBASTIAN: How ya doing, asshole?

GOLD takes off his helmet to reveal a soot-stained, identical face. He pats down the flames.

GOLD: Coulda been bad, but I got my helmet on in time.

The flaming car explodes again.

Sebastian (V.O): I just finally remembered what I gave up my addiction to...

Sebastian toasts his water bottle against Gold's whiskey. They both drink.

Didi (V.O): And?

Sebastian (V.O): I think I'll need him.

Sebastian mounts his bike. Gold jumps on behind, wrapping his arms around Sebastian's waist.

GOLD: What're we waiting for?

They take off down the road. Behind them, a swarm of red locusts forms and starts chasing the tiny yellow motorbike.

GOLD: Faster.

An ear-scratching SHREEIIIKKK. A Giant Locust rears its head over the mountains and towers over the landscape.

GOLD: Faster.

Sebastian accelerates, pushing his bike near its limits; the locusts close behind him. The giant, monstrous locust turns to its prey and opens its maw - the bike stays on a direct collision course.

Gold opens his mouth, but it’s Sebastian who says:

SEBASTIAN: Faster.

Cut to black.